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The Village Blacksmith, Or, Piety and Usefulness Exemplified in a Memoir of ...
No preview available - 2016
added appeared asked attended believe blessing body called chapel character Christ Christian Church Circuit circumstances continued conversation Crown 8vo death Divine effect entered expressed faith feeling felt friends gave give given grace ground hand happy hear heard heart heaven Hick Holy horse Illustrations impression instance Jesus knew labour language less letter light live look Lord meeting Methodist mind missionary morning nature never night observed occasion once passing person poor possessed pray prayer preach preacher present proceeded received reference religion remained remarked replied respect Samuel seemed sent sermon SHILLINGS society soon soul spirit Story things thought told took truth turned village Wesley Wesleyan whole wish young
Page xv - The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 175 - Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: 18 Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
Page xv - And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Page 16 - My God is reconciled ; His pardoning voice I hear: He owns me for his child ; I can no longer fear: \Vith confidence I now draw nigh, And, "Father, Abba, Father,
Page 8 - Climbing : A Manual for the Young who Desire to Rise in Both Worlds. By the Rev. BENJAMIN SMITH. Crown 8vo. Sixth Edition.
Page xv - Week in. week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
Page xv - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Page xvi - Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Page 18 - Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.