Pathfinders of the Soul-country: And Other Sermons for Today

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Fleming H. Revell Company, 1918 - Presbyterian Church - 199 pages

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Page 184 - I HEARD the voice of Jesus say, " Come unto Me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon My breast !" I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. 2 I heard the voice of Jesus say, " Behold, I freely give The living water ; thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live...
Page 50 - Far-called, our navies melt away, On dune and headland sinks the fire; Lo all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre.
Page 50 - Beneath whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget!
Page 27 - I go to prove my soul! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive ! what time, what circuit first, I ask not: but unless God send his hail Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time!
Page 163 - In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old — This knight so bold — And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow — "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be — This land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied, — "If you seek for Eldorado!
Page 165 - We will return no more ;' And all at once they sang, ' Our island home Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.
Page 44 - And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.
Page 108 - BARD'S EPITAPH. Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool, Let him draw near ; And owre this grassy heap sing dool, And drap a tear. Is there a Bard of rustic song, Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, That weekly this area throng, O, pass not by ! But, with a frater-feeling strong, Here, heave a sigh. Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad...
Page 19 - Nor canst thou prove the world thou movest in, Thou canst not prove that thou art body alone, Nor canst thou prove that thou art spirit alone Nor canst thou prove that thou art both in one: Thou canst not prove thou art immortal, no Nor yet that thou art mortal — nay my...
Page 70 - But Thee, but Thee, O sovereign Seer of time, But Thee, O poets' Poet, Wisdom's Tongue, But Thee, O man's best Man, O love's best Love, O perfect life in perfect labor writ, O all men's Comrade, Servant, King, or Priest,— What if or yet, what mole, what flaw, what lapse, What least defect or shadow of defect, What rumor, tattled by an enemy, Of inference loose, what lack of grace Even in torture's grasp, or sleep's, or death's...

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