Maxioms by Isaac Watts
For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.
For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.
Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.
Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.
Ascension Feast of Justin, Martyr at Rome, c.165 Commemoration of Angela de'Merici, Founder of the Institute of St. Ursula, 1540 read more
Ascension Feast of Justin, Martyr at Rome, c.165 Commemoration of Angela de'Merici, Founder of the Institute of St. Ursula, 1540 Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Does its successive journeys run, His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more. For him shall endless prayer be made, And princes throng to crown his head; His name, like sweet perfume, shall rise With every morning sacrifice. People and realms of every tongue Dwell on his love with sweetest song, And infant-voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on his name. Blessings abound where'er he reigns; The prisoners leap to lose their chains; The weary find eternal rest, And all the sons of want are blest. Let every creature rise and bring Honors peculiar to our King; Angels descend with songs again, And earth repeat the loud amen.
But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
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But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.
- Isaac Watts,
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.
