God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan His work in vain:
God is His own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
Visitors are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not visit, would do nothing.
God made the country, and man made the town. — What wonder, then, that health and virtue should most abound, and least be threatened in the fields and groves.
A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter; therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
Candid and generous and just. Boys care but little whom they trust. An error soon corrected — for who but learns in riper years. That man, when smoothest he appears, is most to be suspected?
The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
My soul is sick with every day’s report of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
The earth was made so various, that the mind of desultory man, studious of change, and pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
If a great man struggling with misfortunes is a noble object, a little man that despises them is no contemptible one.
Variety is the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavor.
A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship’s finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, the mere materials with which wisdom builds, till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much; wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Topics: Knowledge, Wisdom, Humility
Grief is itself a med’cine.
It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme rudely appealed to on each trifling theme. — Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise. — To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise.
Topics: Swearing, Vulgarity
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute on;
but I wish that I could get away
And go home to the village of Bruton.
Wondering Whom to Read Next?
- Frances Ridley Havergal English Anglican Poet
- Christina Rossetti English Poet
- George Herbert Welsh Anglican Poet
- William Ralph Inge English Anglican Clergyman
- John Wilkins English Anglican Clergyman
- Beilby Porteus Bishop of London
- Sydney Smith English Preacher
- Jeremy Collier English Anglican Clergyman
- Richard Hooker English Theologian, Political Theorist
- Abraham Cowley English Poet