Recollections of a Long Life

Couverture
Joseph Packard, Thomas Jones Packard
B. S. Adams, 1902 - 364 pages
 

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Page 227 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all : And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 202 - Let not conscience make you linger, Nor of fitness fondly dream ; All the fitness he requireth, Is to feel your need of him ; This he gives you ; 'Tis the Spirit's rising beam.
Page 28 - I'LL praise my Maker with my breath ; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers : My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.
Page 310 - HOLY Scripture containeth all things necessary to salvation : so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as an Article of the Faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation.
Page 167 - They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit lingering here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is dressed After the sun's remove.
Page 180 - shine as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever.
Page 290 - And I am sure that when I come unto you, I shall come in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ.
Page 29 - Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on His breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out sweetly there.
Page 334 - It lives on the ear, like a music that can never be forgotten, like the sound of church bells, which the convert hardly knows how he can forego. Its felicities often seem to be almost things rather than mere words. It is part of the national mind, and the anchor of national seriousness.
Page 121 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.

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