The Future Life: Four Sermons Preached at St. John's Notting Hill, in June, 1915

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Longmans, Green, 1915 - Future life - 63 pages
 

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Contents

I
17
II
23
III
36
IV
50

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Page 39 - And bade me creep past. No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Page 41 - And only the Master shall praise us. and only the Master shall blame: And no one shall work for money. and no one shall work for fame. But each for the joy of the working. and each. in his separate star. Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are!
Page 49 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Page 58 - That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it : This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it.
Page 54 - ... the energies of our system will decay, the glory of the sun will be dimmed, and the earth tideless and inert will no longer tolerate the race which has for a moment disturbed its solitude. Man will go down into the pit and all his thoughts will perish. The uneasy consciousness which in this obscure corner has for a brief space broken the contented silence of the universe will be at rest. Matter will know itself no longer. " Imperishable monuments " and " immortal deeds " death itself and love...
Page 42 - The wages of sin is death : if the wages of Virtue be dust, Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly ? She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the just, To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer sky : Give her the wages of going on, and not to die.
Page 48 - Behold, we know not anything ; I can but trust that good shall fall At last — far off— at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry.
Page 22 - When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed, And the coffin is waiting beside the bed, And the widow and child forsake the dead — The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.
Page 63 - Since I am coming to that holy room, " Where, with Thy Choir of Saints, for evermore " I shall be made Thy music, as I come " I tune my instrument here at the door, " And, what I must do then, think here before.
Page 56 - WE look for some reward of our endeavours and are disappointed; not success, not happiness, not even peace .of conscience, crowns our ineffectual efforts to do well. Our frailties are invincible, our virtues barren; the battle goes sore against us to the going down of the sun.

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