Old Times at Otterbourne

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Warren and Son, 1891 - Otterbourne (England) - 46 pages
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Page 23 - The chalice of benediction, which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread, which we break, is it not the partaking. of the body of the Lord?
Page 11 - And none of all the faithless, who swore th' unhallowed vow, Drank of the crystal waters beneath the plane-tree bough. Dread was the hour, but short as dread, when from the guarded down Fierce Cromwell's rebel soldiery kept watch o'er Wykeham's town : Beneath their pointed cannon all lichen's valley lay, St.
Page 26 - At home, abroad, in peace, in war, Thy God shall thee defend ; Conduct thee through life's pilgrimage Safe to thy journey's end.
Page 42 - The lot is fallen unto me in a fair ground : yea, I have a goodly heritage.
Page 26 - I lift mine eyes, From thence expecting aid ; From Zion's hill, and Zion's God Who heaven and earth has made.
Page 38 - Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them...
Page 25 - Since God doth thus his wondrous love Through all my life extend, That life to him I will devote, And in his temple spend. 15O 1...
Page 26 - Sion's hill I lift my eyes, From thence expecting aid; From Sion's hill and Sion's GOD, Who heaven and earth has made. 2 He will not let thy foot be moved, Thy guardian will not sleep ; Behold, the GOD who slumbers not Will favor'd Israel keep. 3 Shelter'd beneath th' ALMIGHTY'S wings, Thou shalt securely rest, Where neither sun nor moon shall thee By day or night molest.
Page 25 - My Shepherd is the living Lord, I therefore nothing need ; In pastures fair, near pleasant streams, He setteth me to feed. " He shall convert and glad my soul, And bring my mind in frame To walk in paths of righteousness, For his most holy name. "Yea, though I walk the vale of death, Yet will I fear no ill; Thy rod and staff they comfort me, And thou art with me still.
Page 39 - AGED Saint ! far off I heard The praises of thy name ; Thy deed of power, thy skilful word, Thy zeal's triumphant flame. 1 came and saw ; and, having seen, Weak heart, I drew offence From thy prompt smile, thy simple mien, Thy lowly diligence. The Saint's is not the Hero's praise ; — This have I found, and learn Nor to profane Heaven's humblest ways, Nor its least boon to spurn.

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