Favorite Poems

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James R. Osgood, 1877 - 112 pages
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Page 110 - Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in any thing To do it as for Thee.
Page 106 - I should (said He) Bestow this jewel also on My creature, He would adore My gifts instead of Me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature : So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness : Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.
Page 53 - Lord, with what care hast thou begirt us round, Parents first season us ; then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws ; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy messengers, Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes...
Page 112 - I cannot look on thee. Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I \ Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve. And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame \ My dear, then I will serve.
Page 78 - And both with moons and tides. Nothing hath got so far, But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey. His eyes dismount the highest star: He is in little all the sphere. Herbs gladly cure our flesh; because that they Find their acquaintance there.
Page 111 - A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine : Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that and th
Page 77 - MY God, I heard this day, That none doth build a stately habitation But he that means to dwell therein. What house more stately hath there been, Or can be, than is Man ? to whose creation All things are in decay.
Page 35 - Judge not the preacher ; for he is thy judge : If thou mislike him, thou coneeiv'st him not. God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge To pick out treasures from an earthen pot. The worst speak something good : if all want sense, God takes a text, and preacheth patience.
Page 106 - When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, Let us, said he, pour on him all we can. Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span.
Page 108 - To see their mother-root when they have blown; Where they together All the hard weather, Dead to the world, keep house unknown. These are Thy wonders, Lord of power, Killing and quickening, bringing down to hell And up to heaven in an hour; Making a chiming of a passing-bell. We say amiss This or that is; Thy word is all, if we could spell.

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