Remains of the Late Rev. Charles Wolfe ...: With a Brief Memoir of His Life

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H. & F. J. Huntington, 1828 - Sermons, English - 294 pages
 

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Page 208 - Know ye not, that to whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey ; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness...
Page 147 - They cannot mean that," answered Mr. Mertonn, " for our Lord has also told us to let our light so shine before men, that they may see our good works, and glorify our Father Which is in Heaven...
Page 214 - Thou wilt show me the path of life : in thy presence is fulness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.
Page 265 - And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah ; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.
Page 29 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Page 169 - Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were made, thou art GOD from everlasting, and world without end. Thou turnest man to destruction ; again thou sayest, Come again, ye children of men.
Page 164 - And GOD created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind : and GOD saw that it was good.
Page 255 - And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth ; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.
Page 29 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Page 29 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

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