Life by the Fireside

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R. Bentley, 1853 - 308 pages

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Page 108 - What is the chief end of man ? Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever.
Page 133 - Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress; so our eyes wait upon the LORD our God, until that he have mercy upon us.
Page 109 - And an highway shall be there, and a way, And it shall be called The way of holiness. The unclean shall not pass over it, But it shall be for those: The wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein.
Page 243 - Wisdom is glorious, and never fadeth away : yea, she is easily seen of them that love her, and found of such as seek her.
Page 92 - OH happiness ! our being's end and aim ! Good, pleasure, ease, content ? whate'er thy name : That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die, Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, O'er-look'd, seen double, by the fool, and wise.
Page 127 - Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on. Four corners to my bed, Four angels round my head; One to watch and one to pray And two to bear my soul away.
Page 129 - Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities ; for we know not what to pray for as we ought ; but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.
Page 294 - HE is not worthy of the name of a poet who would not rather be read a hundred times by one reader than once by a hundred.
Page 289 - As also, when the desire of many things, and of the best meats, and of drunkenness; when the love of what belongs to others, pride, and much speaking, and ambition, and the like things, •come upon thee. 14 When therefore these things arise in thy heart, know that the angel of iniquity is with thee.
Page 117 - Oh ! thou who visitest the sons of men, Thou who dost listen when the humble pray, One little space prolong my mournful day ! One little lapse suspend thy last decree ! I am a youthful traveller in the way, And this slight boon would consecrate to thee, Ere I with Death shake hands, and smile that I am free.

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