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W. Innes, 1843 - 125 pages
 

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Page 105 - And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life ; and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.
Page 24 - They have hands, but they handle not: Feet have they, but they walk not : Neither speak they through their throat. They that make them are like unto them ; So is every one that trusteth in them.
Page 46 - Let him that stole steal no more : but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.
Page 24 - Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands. They have mouths, but they speak not: eyes have they, but they see not: They have ears, but they hear not: noses have they, but they smell not: They have hands, but they handle not: feet have they, but they walk not: neither speak they through their throat. They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
Page 12 - Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works, which were done in you, had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.
Page 8 - It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes.
Page 102 - Tis folly's blank, and wisdom's highest prize!'" I asked a spirit lost, but, O the shriek That pierced my soul ! I shudder while I speak ! It cried, " A particle, a speck, a mite Of endless years, duration infinite !" Of things inanimate, my dial I Consulted, and it made me this reply, " Time is the season fair of living well, The path to glory, or the path to hell." I asked my Bible, and methinks it said, " Thine is the present hour, the past is fled ; Live! live to-day! to-morrow never yet, On...
Page 101 - Time is the warp of life," he said, " Oh tell The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well !" I asked the ancient, venerable dead, Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled ; From the cold grave a hollow murmur flow'd, "Time sow'd the seed, we reap in this abode!
Page 102 - Tis Folly's blank and Wisdom's highest prize." I asked a spirit lost ; but oh the shriek That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak. It cried, "A particle ! a speck ! a mite Of endless years, duration infinite !" Of things inanimate, my dial I Consulted, and it made me this reply : " Time is the season fair of living well, The path of glory or the path of hell.
Page 102 - Of things inanimate my dial I Consulted, and it made me this reply : " Time is the season fair of living well, The path of glory, or the path of hell." I asked my Bible, and methinks it said, " Thine is the present hour ; the past is fled : Live, live to-day ; to-morrow never yet On any human being rose or set.

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