Henry Ward Beecher: The Shakespeare of the Pulpit

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Funk & Wagnalls Company, 1893 - 541 Seiten
 

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Seite 212 - Then said he unto them, But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one.
Seite 315 - Come, welcome; inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these, ye did it unto me.
Seite 530 - I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my Courage and Skill to him that can get it. My Marks and Scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought his Battles who now will be my Rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the Riverside, into which as he went he said, Death, where is thy Sting?
Seite 354 - O Captain! My Captain! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Seite 60 - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Seite 447 - I heard the voice of JESUS say, ' Come unto Me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon My Breast ;' I came to JESUS as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. I heard the voice of JESUS say, ' Behold I freely give The living water, thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live...
Seite 263 - Bursts up in flame; the war of tongue and pen Learns with what deadly purpose it was fraught, And, helpless in the fiery passion caught, Shakes all the pillared state with shock of men: Some day the soft Ideal that we wooed Confronts us fiercely, foe-beset, pursued, And cries reproachful: "Was it, then, my praise, And not myself was loved?
Seite 205 - Slavery, the earth-born Cyclops, fellest of the giant brood, Sons of brutish Force and Darkness, who have drenched the earth with blood, Famished in his self-made desert, blinded by our purer day, Gropes in yet unblasted regions for his miserable prey;— Shall we guide his gory fingers where our helpless children play?
Seite 270 - Independence, which asserts the right of every man to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness...
Seite 354 - Did ever so many hearts, in so brief a time, touch two such boundless feelings ? It was the uttermost of joy ; it was the uttermost of sorrow — noon and midnight, without a space between.

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