Reciprocal Duties of Parents and Children

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Taylor and Hessey, 1818 - 176 oldal

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133. oldal - But seek ye FIRST the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you ? Dare you believe this promise or not ? I DARE : and will act accordingly, by God's assistance.
146. oldal - And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was gathered unto his people.
87. oldal - That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth: that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace...
142. oldal - The man who proceeds in it with steadiness and resolution, will in a little time find that ' her ways are ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are peace.
149. oldal - This languishing head is at rest, Its thinking and aching are o'er ; This quiet, immoveable breast, Is heaved by affliction no more : This heart is no longer the seat Of trouble and torturmg pain ; It ceases to flutter and beat, It never shall flutter again.
34. oldal - Although my house be not so with God, yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure. This is all my salvation and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.
155. oldal - Paul gloried, although he had probably neither sons nor daughters, according to the flesh ; and well he might, and well may every zealous promoter of the Gospel of Christ rejoice, for " whoever converts a sinner from the error of his ways, shall shine as the stars in the firmament for ever and ever.
136. oldal - Depart from us : we desire not the knowledge of Thy ways.— Who is the Almighty that we should serve Him ;- and what doth it profit us if we pray to Him ? Whilst the wicked man Ft 9, 2-3, 'is proud, the poor is set 5-6 on fire.
165. oldal - While they our wisest hours engage, They'll joy our youth, support our age, And crown our hoary hairs : They'll grow in virtue ev'ry day, And thus our fondest loves repay, And recompense our cares.
168. oldal - If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies ; And they are fools who roam : The world has nothing to bestow ; From our own selves our joys must flow, And that dear hut, our home.

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