The temple, sacred poems and private ejaculations, with A priest to the temple, or The country parson. With a life of the author, by J. Lupton

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Page 181 - I should (said He) Bestow this jewel also on My creature, He would adore My gifts instead of Me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature : So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness : Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.
Page 213 - A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine ; Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws, Makes that and the action fine.
Page 173 - I STRUCK the board, and cry'd, No more. I will abroad. What ? shall I ever sigh and pine ? My lines and life are free; free as the road, Loose as the winde, as large as store.
Page 98 - The stars have us to bed: Night draws the curtain which the sun withdraws; Music and light attend our head ; All things unto our flesh are kind In their descent and being; to our mind In their ascent and cause.
Page 98 - More servants wait on man Than he'll take notice of, in every path He treads down that which doth befriend him, When sickness makes him pale and wan. Oh mighty love ! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him.
Page xiv - Ferrar, and tell him, he shall find in it a picture of the many spiritual conflicts that have passed betwixt God and my soul, before I could subject mine to the will of Jesus, my Master in whose service I have now found perfect freedom ; desire him to read it ; and then, if he can think it may turn to the advantage of any dejected poor soul, let it be made public ; if not, let him burn it ; for I and it are less than the least of God's mercies.
Page 16 - Sum up at night, what thou hast done by day ; And in the morning, what thou hast to do. Dress and undress thy soul : mark the decay And growth of it : if with thy watch, that too Be down, then wind up both ; since we shall be Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree.
Page 314 - Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most Mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty. And in thy majesty ride prosperously, because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.
Page 189 - And now in age I bud again ; After so many deaths I live and write ; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my only light, It cannot be That I am he On whom thy tempests fell all night!
Page 79 - And did enclose this light for His : That, as each beast his manger knows, Man might not of his fodder miss. Christ hath took in this piece of ground, And made a garden there for those Who want herbs for their wound.

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