A Cyclopædia of Sacred Poetical Quotations: Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries, Classified and Arranged, for Facility of Reference, Under Subject Headings; Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and Forming Altogether a Complete Book of Devotional Poetry.
Religion
A Cyclopædia of Sacred Poetical Quotations: Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries, Classified and Arranged, for Facility of Reference, Under Subject Headings; Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and Forming Altogether a Complete Book of Devotional Poetry.
Quotations; Religious poetry
When winter fortunes cloud the brows
Of summer friends,--when eyes grow strange,--
When plighted faith forgets its vows,
When earth and all things in it change,--
O Lord, thy _mercies_ fail me never--
Where once thou lovest, thou lovest for ever!
_John Quarles._
_Mercy_ is the highest reach of wit,
A safety unto them that save with it:
Born out of God, and unto human eyes,
Like God, not seen, till fleshly passion dies.
_Lord Brooke._
’Tis He supports my mortal frame,
My tongue shall speak His praise,
My sins would rise His wrath to flame,
And yet His wrath delays.
On a poor worm Thy power might tread,
And I could ne’er withstand,
Thy justice might have crushed me dead,
But _mercy_ held Thy hand.
_Watts._
Hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind
On the precarious _mercy_ of mankind;
Who hopes for wild and visionary things,
And mounts o’er unknown seas with vent’rous wings.
_Crabbe._
Though Nature her inverted course forego,
The day forget to rest, the time to flow,
Yet shall Jehovah’s servants stand secure,
His _Mercy_, fixed, eternal shall endure;
On them her everlasting rays shall shine,
More mild and bright, and sure, O sun! than thine.
_Bishop Lowth._
How are thy servants bless’d, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,
Their help, Omnipotence!
In foreign realms, and lands remote,
Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes I pass’d unhurt,
And breathed in tainted air.
In midst of dangers, fears, and death,
Thy goodness I’ll adore;
And praise thee for thy _mercies_ past,
And humbly hope for more.
_Addison._
With grief opprest, and prostrate in the dust,
Shouldst Thou condemn, I own thy sentence just.
But oh! Thy softer titles let me claim,
And plead my cause by _Mercy’s_ gentle name.
_Mercy_, that wipes the penitential tear,
And dissipates the horrors of despair;
From righteous Justice steals the vengeful hour,
Softens the dreadful attributes of power,
Disarms the wrath of an offended God,
And seals my pardon in a Saviour’s blood.
_Mrs. Carter._
O, Thou, whose piercing thought
Doth note each secret path,
For _mercy_ to Thy Throne we fly
From man’s condemning wrath.
How fearless should our trust
In thy compassion be,
When from our brother of the dust
We dare appeal to Thee.
_Mrs. Sigourney._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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