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Against their Maker: they do wish me dead

March 7, 2016


  OH all ye, who passe by, whose eyes and minde
  To worldly things are sharp, but to me blinde;
  To me, who took eyes that I might you finde:
           Was ever grief like mine?

  The Princes of my people make a head
  Against their Maker: they do wish me dead,
  Who cannot wish, except I give them bread:
           Was ever grief like mine?

  Without me each one, who doth now me brave,
  Had to this day been an Egyptian slave.
  They use that power against me, which I gave:
           Was ever grief like mine?

 

"The Sacrifice"

The Temple

 George Herbert, The Works of George Herbert (London: George Routledge & Co., 1854), 18–19.

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Jeremiah Burroughs on the Contentment Produced By Holding the Bible in High Regard and Clinging Tightly to It's Promises

August 29, 2015

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