Hark the herald-angels sing, 'Glory to the new-born King Peace on earth, and mercy mild God and sinners reconciled.' Christ, by highest heav'n adored, Christ, the everlasting Lord, Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of a virgin's womb Veiled in flesh the Godhead see Hail th' incarnate Deity Pleased as man with men to 'ppear, Jesus our Immanu'l here. Hail the heav'n-born Prince of peace Hail the Sun of righteousness Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth. Come, Desire of nations, come, Fix in us Thy humble home Rise, the woman's conquering Seed Bruise in us the serpent's head. Adam's likeness now efface, Stamp Thine image in its place Second Adam from above, Reinstate us in Thy love. Amen.
Quotes about heavn (16 Quotes)
Hail holy light offspring of heav'n first-born.
Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
But life can never be sincerely blest:
Heav'n punishes the bad, and proves the best.
Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well To bear too tender, or too firm a heart To act a lover's or a Roman's part Is there no bright reversion in the sky, For those who greatly think, or bravely die.
I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And after many days my Soul return'd
And said, "Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell.
Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And what the Swede intends, and what the French. To measure life learn thou betimes, and know Toward solid good what leads the nearest way For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains, And disapproves that care, though wise in show, That with superfluous burden loads the day, And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.
Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold Ev'n them who kept Thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not In Thy book record their groans Who were Thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant that from these may grow A hundred-fold, who having learned Thy way Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gained from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.
From pride, from pride, our very reas'ning springs;
Account for moral, as for nat'ral things:
Why charge we Heav'n in those, in these acquit?
Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the Old Law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined So clear, as in no face with more delight. But O, as to embrace me she inclined, I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.
Four things a man must learn to do If he would make his record true To think without confusion clearly To love his fellowmen sincerely To act from honest motives purely To trust in God and Heavn securely.
Each beast, each insect, happy in its own:
Is Heav'n unkind to man, and man alone?
Heav'n, as its purest gold, by tortures tried; The saint sustained it, but the woman died.
Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me - in vain.