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Angry words are lightly spoken
In a rash and thoughtless hour;
Brightest links of life are broken,
By their deep insidious power.
Hearts inspired by warmest feeling,
Ne'er before by anger stirred,
Oft are rent past human healing,
By a single angry word.

Poison drops of care and sorrow,
Bitter poison drops are they,
Weaving for the coming morrow,
Saddest memories of to-day.
Angry words! oh, let them never
From thy tongue unbridled slip;
May the heart's best impulse ever,
Check them ere they soil the lip.
Love is much too pure and holy,
Friendship is too sacred far,
For a moment's reckless folly
Thus to desolate and mar.
Angry words are lightly spoken;
Bitterest thoughts are rashly stirred;
Brightest links of life are broken.
By a single angry word.

Angry looks can do no good,

And blows are dealt in blindness,
Words are better understood,
If spoken but in kindness.

Simple love far more hath wrought,
Although by childhood muttered,
Than all the battles ever fought,
Or oaths that men have uttered.

J. Middleton.

Foolish things are frowns and sneers,
Angry thoughts revealing;
Better far to drown in tears,

Harsh and angry feeling.

J. Burbidge.


He called unto Him His disciples, and of them He chose Twelve, whom also He named Apostles.--Luke, vi. 13.

And He said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned.-Mark, xvi. 15, 16.

Ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.--Acts, i. 8.

By the hands of the Apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the people.--Acts, v. 12.

And He gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers.--Ephesians, iv. 11.

And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb.--Revelations, xxi. 14.

Bur all his mind is bent to holiness,

His champions are the prophets and apostles.


When because faith is in too low degree,
I thought it some apostleship in me,
To speak things which by faith alone I see.


For them the fullness of His might is shown,
O'erleaping the strong bounds of Nature's law;
Grim death for them contracts his hasty stride,
And checks his dart, ev'n in the act to strike;
His horrid messengers, disease and pain,
Loose their remorseless grasp unwillingly,
And leave their prey to ease and thankfulness;
For them bright wisdom opens all her stores,
Her golden treasures spreading to their view,
Whilst Inspiration's all-enlivening light

Hangs hovering o'er their heads in glittering blaze;
Warned by the ray, they pour the sacred strain
In eloquence seraphic.

Charles Jenner.

Oh! who shall dare in this frail scene,
On holiest, happiest thoughts to lean,
On friendship, kindred, or on love?
Since not Apostles' hands can clasp
Each other in so firm a grasp,

But they shall change, and variance prove.


Yet deem not on such parting sad,
Shall dawn no welcome dear and glad;
Divided in this earthly race,
Together at the glorious goal,
Each leading many a rescued soul,
The faithful champions shall embrace.

Sit down, and take thy fill of joy
At God's right hand a bidden guest,
Drink of the cup that cannot cloy,

Eat of the bread that cannot waste.

O great Apostle rightly now

Thou readest all thy Saviour meant,
What time his grave, yet gentle brow,
In sweet reproof on thee was bent.



Rash was the tongue, and unadvisedly bold,
Which sought, Salome, for thy favoured twain
Above their fellows, in Messiah's reign
On right, on left, the foremost place to hold.
More rash, perhaps, and bolder, that which told
Of power the Saviour's bitter cup to drain,
And, passing stretch of human strength, sustain
His bath baptismal. Lord, by Thee enrolled
Thy servant, grant me Thy Almighty grace,

My destined portion of Thy griefs to bear,
Ev'n what Thou wilt! But chiefly grant, Thy face
Within Thy glory's realm to see, whene'er
Most meet Thy wisdom deems; whate'er the place,
It must be blest, for Thou, my God, art there.
Bp. Mant.

Thy eloquence, O Paul, thy matchless tongue,
With strong persuasion, as with magic's voice,
From heathen darkness to the paths of light
Led the benighted wanderers, who, like thee,
Through superstition's gloomy mazes strayed,
Till, Heaven's effulgence bursting on the view,
To thy astonished and enraptured sight
Revealed the glories of unfading day.

William Bolland.

Whose is that sword-that voice and eye of flame, That heart of unextinguishable ire?

Who bears the dungeon-keys; and bonds, and fire? Along his dark and withering path he came― Death in his looks, and terror in his name, Tempting the might of heaven's Eternal Sire. Lo, the Light shone! the sun's veiled beams expire— A Saviour's self a Saviour's lips proclaim! Whose is yon form stretched on the earth's cold bed, With smitten soul, and tears of agony, Mourning the past? Bowed is the lofty headRayless the orbs that flushed with victory. Over the raging waves of human will

The Saviour's spirit walked-and all was still!

"Tis pitiful


To court a grin, when you should woo a soul;
To break a jest, when pity would inspire
Pathetic exhortation; and to address
The skittish fancy with facetious tales,

When sent with God's commission to the heart!
So did not Paul. Direct me to a quip
Or merry turn in all he ever wrote,
And I consent you take it for your text,
Your only one, till sides and benches fail.
No, he was serious in a serious cause,
And understood too well the mighty terms
That he had taken in charge. He would not stoop
To conquer those by jocular exploits,

Whom truth and soberness assailed in vain.


I think that look of Christ might seem to say:-
'Thou Peter' art thou then, a common stone,
Which I at last must break my head upon,
For all God's charge to His high angels, may
Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday

Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to deny me 'neath the morning sun,—
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?'
The cock crows coldly.-Go, and manifest
A late contrition, but no bootless fear!
For when thy deathly need is bitterest,

Thou shalt not be denied, as I am here-
My voice, to God and angels, shall attest,-
Because I knew this man, let him be clear.'
Miss Barrett.

With sudden burst,

A rushing noise, through all the sacred band
Silence profound, and fixed attention claimed.
A chilling terror crept through every heart,
Mute was each tongue, and pale was every face.
The rough roar ceased; when, borne on fiery wings,
The dazzling emanation from above

In brightest vision round each sacred head
Diffused its vivid beams: mysterious light!
That rushed impetuous through th' awaking mind,
Whilst new ideas filled th' impassive soul,
Fast crowding in, with sweetest violence.

'Twas then amazed, they caught the glorious flame;
Spontaneous flowed their all-persuasive words,
Warm from the heart, and to the heart addressed.
Charles Jenner.

A Cæsar's title less my envy moves,

Than to be styled the man whom Jesus loves;
What charms, what beauties in his face did shine,
Reflected ever from the face divine!

Ye hallowed martyrs, who with fervent zeal,
And more than mortal courage, greatly dared
To preach the name of Jesus; ye, who stood
The undaunted champions of eternal truth,
Though maddened priests conspired, though princes

And persecution, with ingenious rage,

Prepared ten thousand torments. William Bolland.

These, O Lord,

Were all Thy scanty followers; by Thee

First called, first rescued from a world of woe,
To spread salvation into distant climes;
And tell the meanest habitant of earth
"Glad tidings of great joy."


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