Reginald Heber Quotes

What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile.

Remember that every guilty compliance with the humors of the world, every sinful indulgence of our own passions, is laying up cares and fears for the hour of darkness; and that the remembrance of ill-spent time will strew our sick-bed with thorns, and rack our sinking spirits with despair.

Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee:
Holy, Holy, Holy! Merciful and Mighty!
God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity.

One half of the population was literally armed against the other, and the fury which actuated both was more like that of demoniacs than rational enemies. It began by the Mussulmans breaking down a famous pillar, named Siva's walking staff, held in high veneration by the Hindoos. These last in revenge broke and burnt down a mosque, and the retort of the first aggressors was to kill a cow, and pour her blood into the sacred well. In consequence every Hindoo able to bear arms, and many who had no other fitness for the employment than rage supplied, procured weapons,and attacked their enemies with frantic fury wherever they met them. Being the most numerous party, they put the Mussulmans in danger of actual extermination, and would certainly have at least burned every mosque in the place before twenty-four hours were over, if the sepoys had not been called in.

When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene, But earthly hope, how bright soe’er, Still fluctuates o’er this changing scene, As false and fleeting as ’t is fair.

Failed the bright promise of your early day?

No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence.

The heathen in his blindness Bows down to wood and stone.

The Son of God goes forth to war, A kingly crown to gain;
His blood red banner streams afar: Who follows in His train?
Who best can drink his cup of woe, Triumphant over pain,
Who patient bears his cross below, He follows in His train.

With drooping bells of clearest blue
Thou didst attract my childish view,
Almost resembling
The azure butterflies that flew
Where on the heath thy blossoms grew
So lightly trembling.

By cool Siloam's shady rill
How sweet the lily grows!

I see them on their winding way, About their ranks the moonbeams play.

We deny our Lord whenever, like Demas, we through love of this present world forsake the course of duty which Christ has plainly pointed out to us.

Before, beside us, and above
The firefly lights his lamp of love.