The Precious Stones of the Heavenly Foundations

الغلاف الأمامي
Sheldon, 1859 - 328 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 174 - The gold and the crystal cannot equal it : and the exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold. No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls : for the price of wisdom is above rubies.
الصفحة 230 - And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven. And Elisha saw it, and he cried, My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!
الصفحة 197 - Come not in terrors, as the King of kings, But kind and good, with healing in thy wings, Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea, Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me!
الصفحة 224 - Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes, and adversity is not without comforts and hopes.
الصفحة 198 - I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless, Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting ? where, grave, thy victory ? I triumph still, if Thou abide...
الصفحة 267 - I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
الصفحة 321 - Jerusalem, my happy home, When shall I come to thee ? When shall my sorrows have an end, Thy joys when shall I see...
الصفحة 195 - Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee.
الصفحة 285 - Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high ; Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past ; Safe into the haven guide : O receive my soul at last...
الصفحة 137 - Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown ; Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last beam is flown ; Then from out the gathered darkness, Holy, deathless stars shall rise, By whose light my soul shall gladly Tread its pathway to the skies.

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