The Religion of a Gentleman

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T.Y. Crowell & Company, 1900 - Christian life - 219 pages

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Page 165 - Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted high, Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye, Or left unthought-of in obscurity, — Who, with a toward or untoward lot, Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not, Plays, in the many games of life, that one Where what he most doth value must be won.
Page 57 - Yes! I believe that there lived Others like thee in the past, Not like the men of the crowd Who all round me to-day...
Page 144 - So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can...
Page 54 - You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot : You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!
Page 156 - Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, 1 marish] marsh And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Page 214 - There shall never be one lost good ! what was, shall live as before ; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound ; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Page 133 - A sacred burden is this life ye bear, Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly ; Stand up, and walk beneath it steadfastly ; Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win ; — God guard ye, and God guide ye on your way, Young pilgrim-warriors, who set forth to-day.
Page 99 - How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill!
Page 147 - GOD'S trumpet wakes the slumbering world : Now, each man to his post ! The red-cross banner is unfurled : Who joins the glorious host ? He who, in fealty to the truth, And counting all the cost, Doth consecrate his generous youth, — He joins the noble host...
Page 76 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

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