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
Who! O, who shall tell
His acts _miraculous_? When His own decrees
Repeals He, or suspends; when by the hand
Of Moses or of Joshua, or the mouths
Of His prophetic seers, such deeds He wrought,
Before the astonished sun’s all-seeing eye,
That faith was scarce a virtue. Need I sing
The fate of Pharaoh, and his numerous band,
Lost in the reflux of the watery walls,
That melted to their fluid state again?
Need I recount bow Samson’s warlike arm
With more than mortal nerves was strung, to o’erthrow
Idolatrous Philistia? Shall I tell
How David triumphed, and what Job sustained?
--But, O supreme, unutterable mercy!
O love unequalled, mystery immense,
Which angels long to unfold! ’Tis man’s redemption
That crowns Thy glory, and Thy power confirms.
_Smart._
When God came down from Heaven, the Living God,
What signs and wonders marked His stately way?
Brake out the winds in music where He trode?
Shone o’er the heavens a brighter, softer day?
The dumb began to speak, the blind to see,
And the lame leaped, and pain and darkness fled;
The mourner’s sunken eye grew bright with glee,
And from the tomb awoke the wondering dead.
_H. H. Milman._
“Come forth!” He cries, “thou dead!”
O God, what means that strange and sudden sound,
That murmurs from the tomb? That ghastly head,
With funeral fillets bound?
It is a living form--
The loved, the lost, the won,
Won from the grave, corruption, and the worm--
“And is not this the Son
Of God?” they whispered, while the sisters poured
Their gratitude in tears, for they had known the Lord.
_Dale._
At His command fled fever, thirsty fiend,
Whose parching fire dries up the wholesome blood:
And madness wild, whose moon-struck eye-balls glare,
With steady gaze, on vacancy: His touch,
With healing virtue, from the withered limbs
Drove nerveless palsy, that with fatal stroke
’Numbs every fibre, grafting death on life--
Unnatural union! Scaly leprosy,
At His appearance, vanished: dropsy, swol’n,
Withdrew his bloated form, and each confessed
A present God.
_William Bolland._
When raging winds
Rushed from their caverns, and resistless swept
The foaming waves, when hideous roared the storm,
As if the wild contending elements
Had strove for mastery, at His command
The tempest ceased, the towering billows sunk
In undulations calm, and zephyrs played
Upon the bosom of the peaceful deep.
_William Bolland._
MISERY.
Thou shalt forget thy _misery_, and remember it as waters that pass
away.--Job, xi. 16.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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