Ugo Bassi's Sermon in the Hospital

J. Pott & Company, 1885 - 29 sidor
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Sida 9 - Measure thy life by loss instead of gain ; Not by the wine drunk, but the wine poured forth ; For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice ; And whoso suffers most hath most to give.
Sida 26 - Thou will not find it in this world again, Nor in another ; here, and here alone Is given thee to suffer for God's sake. In other worlds we shall more perfectly Serve Him and love Him, praise Him, work for Him Grow near and nearer Him with all delight ; But then we shall not any more be called To suffer, which is our appointment here. Canst thou not suffer then one hour...
Sida 20 - Are able to receive it ; men as men, Can reach no higher than the Son of God, The perfect Head and Pattern of mankind. The time is short, and this sufficeth us To live and die by ; and in Him again We see the same first, starry attribute, " Perfect through suffering," our salvation's seal Set in the front of His Humanity.
Sida 28 - I have not yet praised God." And He might answer to thee, — " Never more. All pain is done with." Whensoe'er it comes, That summons that we look for, it will seem Soon, yea too soon. Let us take heed in time That God may now be glorified in us ; And while we suffer, let us set our souls To suffer perfectly : since this alone, The suffering, which is this world's special grace, May here be perfected and left behind. — But in obedience and humility ;— Waiting on God's hand, not forestalling it....
Sida 27 - ... our appointment here. Canst thou not suffer then one hour, — or two ? If He should call thee from thy cross to-day, Saying, It is finished ! — that hard cross of thine From which thou prayest for deliverance, Thinkest thou not some passion of regret Would overcome thee ? Thou wouldst say, " Sc soon? Let me go back, and suffer yet awhile More patiently ; — I have not yet praised God.
Sida 9 - The winter through : — and next year blooms again ; Not bitter for the torment undergone, Not barren for the fulness yielded up ; As fair and fruitful towards the sacrifice, As if no touch had ever come to it, But the soft airs of heaven and dews of earth ; — And so fulfils itself in love once more. And now, what more shall I say...

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