Annesley court; or, Isabel Grant's story, by Adeline

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Elliot Stock, 1872 - 251 psl.
 

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208 psl. - O GOD, thou art my God; early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is ; To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. Because thy loving-kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.
148 psl. - With milk and honey blest ; Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice opprest. I know not, oh ! I know not What joys await us there ; What radiancy of glory, "What bliss beyond compare.
174 psl. - Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit, rest thee now ! E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
166 psl. - And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.
94 psl. - Rocking on the highest billows, Laughing at the storms you meet, You can stand among the sailors, Anchored yet within the bay, You can lend a hand to help them, As they launch their boats away.
166 psl. - And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face ; and his name shall be in their foreheads.
6 psl. - Would you judge of the lawfulness or unlawfulness of pleasure, take this rule : whatever weakens your reason impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes off the relish of spiritual things. In short, whatever increases the strength and authority of your body over your mind, that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may be in itself.
100 psl. - For there is hope of a tree if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground, yet through the scent of water it will bud and bring forth boughs like a plant.
9 psl. - Calm and still light on yon great plain That sweeps with all its autumn bowers, And crowded farms and lessening towers, To mingle with the bounding main: Calm and deep peace in this wide air, These leaves that redden to the fall; And in my heart, if calm at all, If any calm, a calm despair: Calm on the seas, and silver sleep, And waves that sway themselves in rest, And dead calm in that noble breast Which heaves but with the heaving deep. XII. Lo, as a dove when up she springs To bear thro...
149 psl. - Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! Thou hast no time, bright day ! Dear fountain of refreshment To pilgrims far away ! Upon the Rock of Ages They raise Thy holy tower; Thine is the victor's laurel, And Thine the golden dower.

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