Memorial Services Held in the House of Representatives and Senate of the United States: Together with Remarks Presented in Eulogy of John Thomas, Late a Senator from Idaho

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U.S. Government Printing Office, 1948 - 97 Seiten

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Seite 76 - Almighty God, with whom do live the spirits of those who depart hence in the Lord, and with whom the souls of the faithful, after they are delivered from the burden of the flesh, are in joy and felicity...
Seite 55 - 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.
Seite 3 - December, 1869, and subsequently elected to the United States Senate, to fill the vacancy caused by the death of...
Seite 54 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song! Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong! 4 Our fathers...
Seite 13 - In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
Seite 42 - Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.
Seite 54 - Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high : Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, O, receive my soul at last...
Seite 76 - I HEARD a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, from henceforth blessed are the dead who die in the LORD ; even so saith the SPIRIT ; for they rest from their labours.
Seite 12 - Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last— far off— at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream ; but what am I ? An infant crying in the night ; An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry.
Seite 13 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own!

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