Tales of the Scottish Covenanters

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Carter, 1842 - Covenanters - 331 pages

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Page 21 - As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
Page 27 - Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased. 8 I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep : for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.
Page 23 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 27 - For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.
Page 23 - A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place...
Page 9 - Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too ; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Page 54 - He brings, and round about him ; nor from Hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place : now Conscience wakes Despair That slumbered ; wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
Page 52 - In gentle stream; then rose the song, the loud Acclaim of praise. The wheeling plover ceased Her plaint; The solitary place was glad, And on the distant cairns the watcher's ear Caught doubtfully at times the breeze-borne note.
Page 46 - Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you,, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.
Page 52 - THE Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want: He makes me down to lie In pastures green ; he leadeth me The quiet waters by.

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