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Page 198 - THE sands of time are sinking, The dawn of heaven breaks, The summer morn I've sighed for, The fair sweet morn awakes. Dark, dark hath been the midnight, But dayspring is at hand, And glory, glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land.
Page 65 - And wrought'st for them that trust in thee the sons of men before ! 20 In secret of thy presence thou shalt hide them from man's pride : From strife of tongues thou closely shalt, as in a tent, them hide.
Page 109 - Why, she will float the devil, and make blush The boldest face of man that ever man saw. He that hath best opinion of his wit. And hath his brain-pan fraught with bitter jests (Or of bis own, or Mtol'o, or howsoever).
Page 66 - For from thine eyes cut off I am, I in my haste had said; My voice yet heard'st thou, when to thee with cries my moan I made.
Page 65 - ... sake. 17 Let me not be asham'd, O Lord, for on thee call'd I have : Let wicked men be sham'd, let them be silent in the grave. 18 To silence put the lying lips, that grievous things do say, And hard reports, in pride and scorn, on righteous men do lay.
Page 109 - But they are so acquainted, they'll ne'er part. Why, she will flout the devil, and make blush The boldest face of man that e'er man saw; He that hath best opinion of his wit, And hath his brainpan fraught with bitter jests, Or of his own, or stol'n, or howsoever, Let him stand ne'er so high in his own conceit, Her wit's a sun that melts him down like butter, And makes him sit at table pancake-wise, Flat, flat, God knows...