The Dutch Dominie of the Catskills: Or, The Times of the "Bloody Brandt."

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Derby & Jackson, 1861 - 455 pages
 

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Page 460 - Behold, I go forward, but he is not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive him : on the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him : he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him : but he knoweth the way that I take : when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.
Page 65 - O my dove that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Page 457 - I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;) such an one caught up to the third heaven.
Page 121 - HOW doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people ! How is she become as a widow ! she that was great among the nations, And princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary!
Page 284 - Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all.
Page 192 - These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
Page 456 - The Lord bless you, and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace, both now and evermore.
Page 452 - His ways are not our ways, neither are his thoughts our thoughts ; for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are his ways higher than our ways, and his thoughts than our thoughts.
Page 453 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 145 - Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow.

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