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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

Or, when he hungry is, for better food
          To feed upon,
          Than this alone,
    If he bring stomach and digestion good:
          And if he be amiss,
          This the best physic is.

    It is the looking-glass of souls, wherein
          All men may see,
          Whether they be
    Still, as by nature they are, deform’d with sin;
          Or in a better case,
          As new adorn’d with grace.

    ’Tis the great Magazine of spiritual arms,
          Wherein doth lie
          The Artillery
    Of heaven, ready charged against all harms,
          That might come by the blows
          Of our infernal foes.

    God’s cabinet of reveal’d counsel ’tis:
          Where weal and woe
          Are order’d so,
    That every man may know which shall be his;
          Unless his own mistake
          False application make.

    It is the index of Eternity.
          He cannot miss
          Of endless bliss,
    That takes this chart to steer his voyage by,
          Nor can he be mistook,
          That speaketh by this Book.

    A Book to which no other Book can be compared
          For excellence;
          Pre-eminence
    Is proper to it, and cannot be shared.
          Divinity alone
          Belongs to it, or none.

    It is the Book of God. What if I should
          Say, God of Books?
          Let him that looks
    Angry at this expression, as too bold
          His thoughts in silence smother,
          Till he find such another.
                                 _George Herbert._


    But to outweigh all harm, the sacred book,
    In dusty sequestration wrapped too long,
    Assumes the accent of our native tongue;
    And he who guides the plough, or wields the crook,
    With understanding spirit now may look
    Upon her records, listen to her song,
    And sift her laws--much wondering that the wrong
    Which faith hath suffered, Heaven could calmy brook.
    Transcendent Boon! nobler than earthly King
    Ever bestowed to equalize and bless,
    Under the weight of mortal wretchedness!
    But passions spread like plagues, and thousands wild
    With bigotry shall tread the offering
    Beneath their feet, detested and defiled.
                                            _Wordsworth._

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