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able animal arms asked baby bear beautiful Bible bird blessed BOOK brave called child Christ Christian church City coming dark daughter dead dear death earth English eyes fall Father fear feel fell flowers follow gave give God's grave green grow hands happy hear heard heart heaven hope Illustrations Jesus John kind King lady land leave little children little girl lived look Lord lying maidens Mamma Mary morning mother never night once opened passed peace perhaps picture poor rest round says seems sent sheep shepherd shine sing sisters sometimes soul story Sunday sure sweet tell thee things thou thought told town trees turn voice wife Winter young
Seite 60 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Seite 27 - LET dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so ; Let bears and lions growl and fight, For 'tis their nature too. 2 But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise ; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.
Seite 216 - Forgive, me, LORD, for Thy dear SON, The ill that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Seite 84 - The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God.
Seite 144 - Hymns of praise then let us sing Unto Christ our heavenly King Who endured the cross and grave, Sinners to redeem and save.
Seite 106 - It seem'd so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed sun, And now it seems as hard to stay, and yet His will be done ! But still I think it can't be long before I find release ; And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words 1 of peace.
Seite 172 - I think, when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here among men, How He called little children as lambs to His fold, I should like to have been with them then.
Seite 38 - To hear her weeping by his grave ? 'Where wert thou, brother, those four days?' There lives no record of reply, Which telling what it is to die Had surely added praise to praise. From every house the neighbours met, The streets were fill'd with joyful sound, A solemn gladness even crown'd The purple brows of Olivet.