The Intellectual repository for the New Church. (July/Sept. 1817). [Continued as] The Intellectual repository and New Jerusalem magazine. Enlarged ser., vol.1-28

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Стр. 192 - And the angel of the LORD appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.
Стр. 144 - And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.
Стр. 419 - For this cause we also, since the day we heard it, do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding...
Стр. 47 - An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust : Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! A worm ! a god ! I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost.
Стр. 210 - And Jesus said unto them. Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
Стр. 63 - My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass : Because I will publish the name of the Lord: ascribe ye greatness unto our God.
Стр. 11 - For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be.
Стр. 122 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves ; And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves.
Стр. 282 - For God commanded, saying, Honour thy father and mother: and, He that curseth father or mother, let him die the death. But ye say, Whosoever shall say to his father or his mother, It is a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me, and honour not his father or his mother, he shall be free.
Стр. 66 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...

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