"Blessed God, pity the soul whose extremest horror is the doom of an eternal departure from Thee. Draw my spirit into the holiest and the nearest union with Thyself that is possible while it dwells in this flesh! And let me here commence that delightful residence and converse with God, which nor death, nor judgment shall ever destroy, nor shall a long eternity ever put a period to it."

"I expect eternal life, not as a reward of merit, but a pure act of bounty. Detesting myself in every view I can take, I fly to the righteousness and atonement of my great Redeemer for pardon and salvation; this is my only consolation and hope. "Enter not into judgment, O Lord, with Thy servant; for in Thy sight shall no flesh be justified.""

"As the Creator and Preserver of men, Thou art gloriously manifest; butO! how much more gloriously art Thou revealed as reconciling ungrateful enemies to Thyself by the blood of Thy eternal Son. Here Thy beneficence displays its brightest splendor; here Thou dost fully display Thy most magnificent titles; THE LORD, THE LORD GOD, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness. How unsearchable are Thy ways, and Thy paths past finding out!"

"God, whose farm is all creation, take the gratitude we give; take the finest of our harvest, crops we grow that all may live."

"Cricket is the most senior, widespread and deeply rooted of English games."

"We've got a freaker! We’ve got a freaker down the wicket now. Not very shapely and it's masculine. And I would think it's seen the last of its cricket for the day. The police are mustered, so are the cameramen, and Greg Chappell. And now he's being embraced by a blond policeman. And this may be his last public appearance but what a splendid one. He's now being marched down in the final exhibition past at least 8,000 people in the Mound Stand, some of whom perhaps have never seen anything quite like this before. And he's getting a very good reception."

"He came in tongues of living flame"

"And His that gentle voice we hear, Soft as the breath of even."

"No flowers, by request."

"March we forth in the strength of God With the banner of Christ unfurled, That the light of the glorious gospel of truth May shine throughout the World."

"The kiss of the sun for pardon, The song of the birds for mirth, One is nearer God's Heart in a garden Than anywhere else on Earth."

"....We write our lives indeed, But in a cipher none can read, Except the author"

"What He tells thee in the darkness, Weary watcher for the day, Grateful lip and heart should utter When the shadows flee away."

"Jesus, Master, I am Thine; Keep me faithful, keep me near; Let Thy presence in me shine All my homeward way to cheer. Jesus, at Thy feet I fall, Oh, be Thou my All in All."

"It is not that I feel less weak, but Thou Wilt be my strength. It is not that I see Less sin, but more of pardoning love in Thee, And all-sufficient grace. Enough! And now All fluttering thought is stilled; I only rest, And feel that Thou art near, and know that I am blest."

"Only, stay by his side Till the page is really known, It may be we failed because we tried To learn it all alone, And now that He would not let us lose One lesson of love (For He knows the loss,) — can we refuse?"

"I take this pain, Lord Jesus, From Thine own hand; The strength to bear it bravely Thou wilt command. I am too weak for effort, So let me rest, In hush of sweet submission On Thine own breast."

"Jesus, my life is Thine, And ever more shall be Hidden in Thee, For nothing can untwine Thy life from mine."

"Oh, give Thine own sweet rest to me, That I may speak with soothing power A word in season, as from Thee, To weary ones in needful hour."

"Earthly joy can take but a bat-like flight, always checked, always limited, in dusk and darkness. But the love of Christ breaks through the vaulting, and leads us up into the free sky above, expanding to the very throne of Jehovah, and drawing us still upward to the infinite heights of glory."

"All the lessons He shall send Are the sweetest: And His training, in the end, Is completest."

"Teach us, Master, how to give All we have and are to Thee; Grant us, Saviour, while we live, Wholly, only Thine to be."

"Doubt indulged soon becomes doubt realized."

"Oh to be my verse an answering gleam from higher radiance caught"

"If washed in Jesus' blood, Then bear His likeness too, And as you onward press Ask, "What would Jesus do?""

"Upon Thy word I rest. So strong, so sure: So full of comfort blest, So sweet, so pure — The word that changeth not, that faileth never! My King, I rest upon Thy word forever."

"Give us grace to listen well."

"Sweet is the smile of home; the mutual look When hearts are of each other sure; Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, The haunt of all affections pure."

"Love masters agony; the soul that seemed Forsaken, feels her present God again, And in her Father's arms Contented dies away."

"Time's waters will not ebb, nor stay."

"When the shore is won at last, Who will count the billows past?"

"Soft as Memnon's harp at morning, To the inward ear devout, Touched by light, with heavenly warning Your transporting chords ring out. Every leaf in every nook, Every wave in every brook, Chanting with a solemn voice, Minds us of our better choice."

"The watchful mother tarries nigh Though sleep have closed her infant's eye, For should he wake, and find her gone, She knows she could not bear his moan."

"Sun of my soul! thou Saviour dear, It is not night if Thou be near: Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes!"

"And help us, this and every day, To live more nearly as we pray."

"Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live: Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die."

"When you find yourself, as I daresay you sometimes do, overpowered as it were by melancholy, the best way is to go out, and do something kind to somebody or other."

"The voice that breathed o'er Eden, That earliest wedding day, The primal marriage blessing, It hath not passed away."

"The trivial round, the common task, Would furnish all we ought to ask."

"Sprinkled along the waste of years Full many a soft green isle appears: Pause where we may along the desert road, Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode."

"Why should we faint and fear to live alone, Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die, Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh?"

"As fire is kindled by fire, so is a poet's mind kindled by contact with a brother poet."

"'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose Friends out of sight, in faith to muse How grows in Paradise our store."

"The deeds we do, the words we say,— Into still air they seem to fleet, We count them ever past; But they shall last, In the dread judgment they And we shall meet!"

"The true and primary author of it [the Oxford Movement], however, as is usual with great motive-powers, was out of sight. Having carried off as a mere boy the highest honours of the University, he had turned from the admiration which haunted his steps, and sought for a better and holier satisfaction in pastoral work in the country. Need I say that I am speaking of John Keble?"

"His happy magic made the Anglican Church seem what Catholicism was and is."

"The Christian Year made its appearance in 1827. It is not necessary, and scarcely becoming, to praise a book which has already become one of the classics of the language. When the general tone of religious literature was so nerveless and impotent, as it was at that time, Keble struck an original note and woke up in the hearts of thousands a new music, the music of a school, long unknown in England. Nor can I pretend to analyze, in my own instance, the effect of religious teaching so deep, so pure, so beautiful."

"Much against his will, but for a great many persons of very various characters who but for him might have fallen under very different influences, he became a sort of religious "court of final appeal." When all else had been said and done, people would wait and see what came from Hursley, before they made up their minds as to the path of duty."

"A secure place in this gallery of English worthies is held by John Keble, Victorian Vicar of the parish of Hursley near Winchester. His ministry was peaceful, dedicated and devout, the qualities which reappear in his poetry; and to his contemporaries, he was a worthy successor to Hooker and Herbert as well as the very model of the rural parish priest, the pastor and shepherd of his people. For pious Anglicans, his name still evokes that romantic ecclesiastical Arcadia and heaven on earth... This vision of Christianity was Keble's, one intrinsically rustic and English. There was more about him, however, than the peace and plenty of the rural parsonage. Keble was also a national figure as one of the best-loved of English poets and a leader of the High Church revival. To his own generation he was a prophet in Israel, and for many Victorians, the poet of the religious world."

"Mr. Keble's sensitive shrinking from anything like praise and observation has perhaps been the cause for the idea gaining ground that he was rather a gentle, holy man than a strong living force in Church matters. His friends, on the contrary, remember chiefly the fiery eagerness, the indignant remonstrances poured out, and the sternness of his judgment when he thought Church doctrine was being endangered. Eagle-eyed to detect danger, he allowed no one to be idle if things could be bettered by letters or protests."