GOD'S WORD. 591 GOD'S WORD. THE BOOK. THE WORD. VOICE of the Holy Spirit, making known GALLERY of sacred pictures manifold, Their golden tablets traced in Holy Writ! JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE. BUT, to outweigh all harm, the sacred Book With understanding spirit now may look wrong, GEORGE PERKINS MORRIS, the editorial associate of N. P. Willis, was born at Philadelphia, Oct. 10, 1802, and died in New York City, July 6, 1864. He published several volumes of poetry. THIS book is all that's left me now, For many generations past Here is our family tree: My mother's hands this Bible clasped, Ah! well do I remember those Whose names these records bear; Who round the hearthstone used to close, And speak of what these pages said My father read this holy book How calm was my poor mother's look. What thronging memories come! Thou truest friend man ever knew, When all were false, I found thee true, The mines of earth no treasures give GEORGE P. MORRIS. THE BIBLE. LAMP of our feet, whereby we trace Bread of our souls, whereon we feed, True manna from on high! Our guide and chart, wherein we read Of realms beyond the sky. Pillar of fire through watches dark, When waves would whelm our tossing bark, Pole-star on life's tempestuous deep! Beacon, when doubts surround! Compass, by which our course we keep. Our deep sea-land to sound! Riches in poverty! our aid the pilgrim's shade, The soldier's fortress tower! Our shield and buckler in the fight! Childhood's preceptor! manhood's trust! Our hope, when we go down to dust, Pure oracles of truth divine, Unlike each fabled dream Given forth from Delphos' mystic shrine, Or groves of Academe ! Word of the ever-living God! Will of his glorious Son! Without thee how could earth be trod, Or heaven itself be won? Yet to unfold thy hidden worth, Thy mysteries to reveal, That Spirit which first gave thee forth Thy volume must unseal! And we, if we aright would learn The wisdom it imparts, Must to its heavenly teaching turn With simple, childlike hearts! BERNARD BARTOS WITH A BIBLE, ON A WEDDING DAY. REV. NATHANIEL LANGDON FROTHINGHAM was born in Boston, July 23, 1793 He graduated at Harvard College, in 1811, with distinguished honor, in the class with Edward Everett. Samuel Gilman, and others of subsequent fame. In 1812, at the age of nineteen, he became Instructor in Rhetoric and Oratory in Harvard College, and in 1815 he was ordained pastor of the First Congregational Church in Boston, of which he continued the minister for thirty-five years He died April 4, 1870. Some of his hymns were written after he had become blind. 1805. HOLY Bible, book divine, Precious treasure, thou art mine; Mine to tell of joys to come, JOHN BURTON. THE WORD. O WORD of God incarnate, The Church from thee, her Master, O'er all the earth to shine. It is the golden casket 1867. Where gems of truth are stored; It is the heaven-drawn picture Of thee, the living Word. It floateth like a banner That o'er life's surging sea, Oh, make thy Church, dear Saviour, WILLIAM WALSHAM How. GOD'S WORD AND WORKS. THE heavens declare thy glory, Lord; In every star thy wisdom shines; But when our eyes behold thy word, We read thy name in fairer lines. The rolling sun, the changing light. And nights and days, thy power confess; But the blest volume thou hast writ, Reveals thy justice and thy grace. Sun, moon, and stars convey thy praise Round the whole earth, and never stand: So when thy truth began its race, It touched and glanced on every land. THE starry firmament on high, The hopes that holy word supplies, When, taught by painful proof to know The sinner roams from comfort far, Soft gleaming then those lights divine Almighty Lord, the sun shall fail, But, fixed for everlasting years, 1815. SIR ROBERT GRANT. THE DIFFUSION OF THE GOSPEL. "Walte, walte nah und fern." SPREAD, oh, spread, thou mighty Word, Tell them how the Father's will Tell of our Redeemer's love, Tell them of the Spirit given 595 Word of Life! most pure and strong, Up, the ripening fields ye see, Lord of harvest, let there be See thy light and learn thy fear. JONATHAN FRIEDRICH BAHNMAIER, 1823. Translated by CATHERINE WINKWORTH, 1858. THE BOOK OF GOD. THY thoughts are here, my God, Expressed in words divine, The utterance of heavenly lips In every sacred line. Across the ages they Have reached us from afar, Than the bright gold more golden they, Purer than purest star. More durable they stand Than the eternal hills; Far sweeter and more musical Fairer in their fair hues Than the fresh flowers of earth, More fragrant than the fragrant climes Where odors have their birth. Each word of thine a gem From the celestial mines, A sunbeam from that holy heaven Where holy sunlight shines. |