The Methodist quarterly (Google eBook)

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Page 211 - Hark, they whisper ; angels say, " Sister spirit, come away ! " What is this absorbs me quite, Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? Tell me, my soul ; can this be death ? The world recedes ; it disappears ! Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears With sounds seraphic ring ! Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! O grave, where is thy victory ? O death, where is thy sting...
Page 32 - So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption; it is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.
Page 207 - Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more.
Page 156 - Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule and all authority and power. For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Page 182 - And there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit; and he cried out, saying, Let us alone ; what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth ? art thou come to destroy us ? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God.
Page 200 - In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by thy care, Through burning climes they pass unhurt, And breathe in tainted air.
Page 207 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far ; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. 2 The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree, And seem by thy sweet bounty made, For those who follow thee.
Page 210 - The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace ; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour ; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower. Blind unbelief is sure to err,* And scan his work in vain : God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
Page 214 - Let all the saints terrestrial sing With those to glory gone, For all the servants of our King, In earth and Heaven, are one.
Page 238 - He that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, should beware Of lightness in his speech. Tis pitiful To court a grin, when you should woo a soul ; To break a jest, when pity would inspire Pathetic exhortation ; and to address The skittish fancy with facetious tales, When sent with God's commission to the heart ! So did not Paul.

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