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Page 97 - Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.
Page 17 - There is a home for weary souls By sin and sorrow driven; When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, And all is drear but heaven. There faith lifts up her cheerful eye, To brighter prospects given; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene in heaven.
Page 17 - There, fragrant flowers, immortal, bloom, And joys supreme are given ; There, rays divine disperse the gloom : Beyond the confines of the tomb Appears the dawn of heaven.
Page 324 - And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand; and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews ! And they spit upon him, and took the reed and smote him on the head.
Page 37 - TIS midnight ; and on Olive's brow The star is dimmed that lately shone 'Tis midnight ; in the garden, now, The suffering Saviour prays alone. 2...
Page 38 - Tis midnight ; and for others' guilt The man of sorrows weeps in blood ; Yet he that hath in anguish knelt Is not forsaken by his God.
Page 17 - THERE is an hour of peaceful rest, To mourning wanderers given : There is a joy for souls distressed, A balm for every wounded breast, 'T is found above — in heaven. 2 There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven ; When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise and ocean rolls, And all is drear but heaven.
Page 66 - When sickness lends its pallid hue And every dream of bliss has flown, When quickly from the fading view Recede the joys that once were known, The soul resigned will still rejoice, Though life's last sand has nearly run ; With humble faith and trembling voice, It still responds, "Thy will be done.
Page 126 - ... South ! your redemption is near. No longer repose in the borders of gloom ; The strength of His chosen in love will appear, And light shall arise on the verge of the tomb.
Page 215 - The loss of the breath from a beloved object long suffering in pain and certainty to die is not so great a privation as the last loss of her beautiful remains, if they remain so. The victory of the grave is sharper than the sting of death.

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