The Modern Review, Bind 2

Forsideomslag
J. Clarke & Company, 1881

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Side 188 - A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land; The prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means; and my people love to have it so: and what will ye do in the end thereof (Jer.5:22-31).
Side 77 - Christ did truly rise again from death, and took again his body, with flesh, bones, and all things appertaining to the perfection of Man's nature; wherewith he ascended into Heaven, and there sitteth, until he return to judge all Men at the last day.
Side 619 - And I said, What shall I do, Lord ? And the Lord said unto me, Arise, and go into Damascus, and there it shall be told thee of all things which are appointed for thee to do.
Side 813 - God, That God, which ever lives and loves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves.
Side 558 - The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.
Side 72 - God ; and in Public Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments I will use the Form in ' the said Book prescribed, and none other, except so far as shall be ordered by lawful
Side 187 - Edited by the Rev. STOPFORD BROOKE, MA I. Two vols., uniform with the Sermons. With Steel Portrait. Crown 8vo, Js. 6d. II. Library Edition, in Demy 8vo, with Portrait. 12s, III. A Popular Edition, in I vol. Crown 8vo, 6s. Sermons. Four Series. Small crown 8vo, 3^.
Side 260 - He being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded. But what my power might else exact, — like one Who having unto truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie...
Side 419 - And herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men. 17 Now after many years I came to bring alms to my nation, and offerings.
Side 568 - Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew'd me lilies for my hair, And blushing roses for my brow; He led me through his gardens fair Where all his golden pleasures grow. With sweet May dews my wings were wet, And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage; He caught me in his silken net, And shut me in his golden cage.

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