Search for: STORMS
4441 Sabbath School Lessons October 1896, page 5 paragraph 3
… the storm, and the many hours of fruitless rowing against the fury of adverse winds, the appearance of Christ walking upon the water, the tears thus aroused …
4442 Sabbath School Lessons January 1897, page 5 paragraph 3
… from storm and from rain.’ His care for the flock is unwearied. He strengthens the weak, relieves the suffering, gathers the lambs in His arms, and carries them …
4443 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 6.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
‘Tis where the weary seek to find repose, A refuge for the weak when storms assail Beneath the parent tree to soothe their woes,— The first to nourish and the last to fail.
4444 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 6.5 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Of it, the sailor’s cheerful song afar Through tedious hours of storm or calm, reminds, Through every varying scene the polar star To which the compass of his heart inclines.
4445 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 10.3 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
The sky is oft o’erspread with darkened clouds, And ruinous storms and tempests round us fall, While dread suspense and fear the mind enshrouds, Until is safely passed the danger’s thrall.
4446 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 15.2 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Where saints of every clime have looked with joy, By storms of persecution sadly driven; For there no grief or suffering would annoy, The end of all their hopes—their home in heaven.
4447 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 18.5 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
And there no wintry winds or storms arise, No summer heat to spread its burning wing, But mild and clear the climate of those skies, Where nature thrives in one perpetual spring.
4448 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 22.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Ere ceased the rage of persecution’s storm, Had millions, deluged in its crimson flood, Through all the tortures malice could perform, Declared the truth and sealed it with their blood.
4449 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 25.6 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
A morn will dawn on this dark night of woe; A sunny calm succeed the midnight storm; To those who joyfully endure, below, And faithful to their trust his will perform.
4450 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 27.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
No! This will be the burden of their song, As untold glory lights the careworn brow: Lo! this is He whom we’ve waited long, And from the storm of wrath he’ll save us now.
4451 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 31.2 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
They loud the cry proclaimed to warn the world Of its approaching doom, and from the chill Of apathy to rouse a slumbering church To refuge seek from the impending storm;
4452 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 32.3 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
… fearful storm.
4453 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 34.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
… . The storms of hate and scorn that round it lower, May hurl their bolts in vain, its beauty to Deface; nor opposition’s swelling waves, That foam and break in fury …
4454 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 35.2 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
And when that storm of wrath whose fearful shades
4455 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 39.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
… and storm both must ripen the grain; Tried is the gold that the purest may shine; Crushed in the vintage that yieldeth the wine. He who the end from beginning …
4456 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 41.4 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
No sorrow there shall dim the eye, No wintry winds or storms are nigh, No sighs borne on the fragrant air; But all shall in the glory share.
4457 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 41.5 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Let hope thy bosom cheer, forlorn, To boldly breast each rising storm; For whatsoe’er thy grief may be, The morning bringeth joy to thee.
4458 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 46.2 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Sinner, seeking thee to save, One his life a ransom gave; Hear his voice inviting, still, Come ye, whosoever will. Mercy’s hour is waning fast: Ere thy day of grace be past, From the storm for refuge flee; Rise! The Master calleth thee!
4459 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 50.1 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
… ! where storms ne’er rise To cast their shade o’er the azure skies, And soon will it burst on our longing sight, When the sleeping myriads will unite, With the …
4460 Home Here, and Home in Heaven; With Other Poems, p. 64.4 (Annie Rebekah Smith)
Through storm and night, so dark and drear, In perils, grief and pain, Thy people have sighed for the promised day, When thou wouldst return again!