The Children's Progressive Lyceum: A Manual, with Directions for the Organization and Management for Sunday Schools, Adapted to the Bodies and Minds of the Young, Volume 49; Volume 435

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Colby & Rich, 1893 - Religion - 316 pages

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Page 298 - In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me; As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free : While God is marching on.
Page 269 - MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home!
Page 283 - From Greenland's icy mountains ; From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river ; From many a palmy plain ; They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
Page 222 - Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Page 227 - And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Page 298 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Page 225 - All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul ; That, changed through all, and yet in all the same, Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame ; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
Page 220 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 298 - I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel: "As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel. Since God is marching on.
Page 301 - There is no death! The dust we tread Shall change beneath the summer showers To golden grain or mellow fruit Or rainbow-tinted flowers.

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