The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson

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Page 227 - tis to see A whole assembly worship thee ! At once they sing, at once they pray ; They hear of heaven, and learn the way...
Page 227 - With thoughts of Christ, and things divine Fill up this foolish heart of mine ; That, hoping pardon through his blood, I may lie down and wake with God.
Page 240 - Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber ; Holy angels guard thy bed ; Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide ; All without thy care, or payment, All thy wants are well supplied.
Page 204 - WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see ! What shall I render to my God For all his gifts to me ? Not more than others I deserve, Yet God has given me more ; For I have food, while others starve, Or beg from door to door.
Page 231 - TO God the Father, God the Son, And God the Spirit, Three in One, Be honor, praise, and glory given, By all on earth, and all in heaven.
Page 229 - LOVE God with all your soul and strength, With all your heart and mind ; And love your neighbour as yourself ; Be faithful, just, and kind. Deal with another, as you'd have Another deal with you. What you're unwilling to receive, Be sure you never do.
Page 203 - Blest be the Lord that sent his Son To take our flesh and blood : He for our lives gave up his own To make our peace with God. He honour'd all his Father's laws, Which we have disobey'd : He bore our sins upon the cross, And our full ransom paid.
Page 234 - ABROAD in the meadows, to see the young lambs Run sporting about by the side of their dams, With fleeces so clean and so white ; Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage, When they play all in love, without anger or rage, How much...
Page 28 - Aloft their sooty banners rear Round my poor captive soul, and dare Pronounce me prisoner of hell. But thou, my Sun, and thou, my Shield, Wilt save me in the bloody field ; Break, glorious Brightness, shoot one glimmering ray, One glance of thine creates a day, And drives the troops of hell away. Happy the times, but ah ! the times are gone When wondrous power and radiant grace Round the tall arches of the temple...
Page 14 - Now let my faith grow strong, and rise, And view my Lord in all his love ; Look back to hear his dying cries, Then mount and see his throne above.

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