The power to bind and loose to Truth is given: The mouth that speaks it is the mouth of Heaven
ABRAHAM COLESOn eyes that watch as well as eyes that weep Descends the solemn mystery of sleep, Toiling and climbing to the very close
More Abraham Coles Quotes
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Eternity! How know we but we stand On the precipitous and crumbling verge Of Time e’en now, Eternity below?
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Within a bony labrinthean cave, Reached by the pulse of the aerial wave, This sibyl, sweet, and Mystic Sense is found, Muse, that presides o’er all the Powers of Sound.
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None of the prophets old, So lofty or so bold! No form of danger shakes his dauntless breast; In loneliness sublime
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Poetry is unfallen speech. Paradise knew no other, for no other would suffice to answer the need of those ecstatic days of innocence.
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Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name?
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Words are freeborn, and not the vassals of the gruff tyrants of prose to do their bidding only. They have the same right to dance and sing as the dewdrops have to sparkle and the stars to shine.
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Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight
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Let us not doubt that God has a father’s pity towards us, and that in the removal of that which is dearest to us He is still loving and kind.
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The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
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No counter proof can equal the force of that drawn from His attributes. It is an indecency and a calumny to impute to Christ conduct which requires apology.
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Be every bar, and every star, Displayed in full and glorious manner! Blow, zephyrs, blow, keep the dear ensign flying! Blow, zephyrs, sweetly mournful, sighing, sighing, sighing!
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I value science–none can prize it more, It gives ten thousand motives to adore: Be it religious, as it ought to be, The heart it humbles, and it bows the knee.
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With dazzling pomp descending angels sung Good will and peace to men, to God due praise, Who on the errand of salvation sent
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The weary Body, longing for repose, On the gained level of the day’s ascent, Halts for the night and pitches there its tent.
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The power, which in a sense belongs to none, Thus understood belongs to every one.
ABRAHAM COLES