None of the prophets old, So lofty or so bold! No form of danger shakes his dauntless breast; In loneliness sublime
ABRAHAM COLESEternity! How know we but we stand On the precipitous and crumbling verge Of Time e’en now, Eternity below?
More Abraham Coles Quotes
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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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Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight
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Taking our stand on the immovable rock of Christ’s character we risk nothing in saying that the wine of miracle answered to the wine of nature, and was not intoxicating.
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O loving woman, man’s fulfillment, sweet, Completing him not otherwise complete! How void and useless the sad remnant left Were he of her, his nobler part, bereft.
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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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Fling out, fling out, with cheer and shout, To all the winds of Our Country’s Banner!
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We hail the return of the day of thy birth, Fair Columbia! washed by the waves of two oceans Where men from the farthest dominions of earth Rear altars to Freedom, and pay their devotions;
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He dares confront the time, And speak the truth, and give the world no rest No kingly threat can cowardize his breath, He with majestic step goes forth to meet his death.
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The power, which in a sense belongs to none, Thus understood belongs to every one.
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Thee, Son Beloved! of plural Unity Essential part, made flesh that mad’st all worlds.
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O most illustrious of the days of time! Day full of joy and benison to earth When Thou wast born, sweet Babe of Bethlehem!
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The power to bind and loose to Truth is given: The mouth that speaks it is the mouth of Heaven
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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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Much of our ignorance is of ourselves. Our eyes are full of dust. Prejudice blinds us.
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The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
ABRAHAM COLES