Stories of the Bible: The People of the Chosen Land, Volume 2

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Educational publishing Company, 1898 - Bible - 334 pages
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Page 259 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail ; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 3 - Far-called, our navies melt away; On dune and headland sinks the fire: Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre ! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget - lest we forget...
Page 259 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Page 3 - Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget!
Page 287 - O thou king, the Most High God gave Nebuchadnezzar, thy father, a kingdom and majesty and glory and honour; and for the majesty that he gave him, all people, nations and languages trembled and feared before him; whom he would he slew, and whom he would he kept alive, and whom he would he set up, and whom he would he put down.
Page 311 - And in every province whithersoever the king's commandment and his decree came, there was great mourning among the Jews, and fasting and weeping and wailing; and many lay in sackcloth and ashes.
Page 285 - There is a man in thy kingdom, in whom is the spirit of the holy gods; and in the days of thy father light and understanding and wisdom, like the wisdom of the gods, was found in him...
Page 273 - If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.
Page 76 - Alas ! my noble boy ! that thou shouldst die ! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb ! My proud boy, Absalom...
Page 75 - The pall was settled. He who slept beneath Was straightened for the grave; and, as the folds Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed The matchless symmetry of Absalom.

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