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Must I be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease, while others fought to win the prize and sailed through bloody seas?

Isaac Watts

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Isaac Watts
Age: 74 †
Born: 1674
Born: July 17
Died: 1748
Died: November 25
Hymnwriter
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Writer
Southampton
Hampshire
Isaac Watts
Winning
Fought
Others
Carried
Prize
Flowery
Must
Ease
Sailed
Bed
Beds
Sky
Seas
Sea
Skies
Struggle
Bloody

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Not all the blood of beasts On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain: But Christ, the heav'nly Lamb, Takes all our sins away, A sacrifice of nobler nam' And richer blood than they.
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thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who taught me betimes to love working and reading.
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If I could reach from pole to pole or grasp the ocean with a span, I would be measured by the soul The mind's the standard of the Man.
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Among all the accomplishments of youth there is none preferable to a decent and agreeable behavior among men, a modest freedom of speech, a soft and elegant manner of address, a graceful and lovely deportment, a cheerful gravity and good-humor, with a mind appearing ever serene under the ruffling accidents of human life.
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No science is speedily learned by the noblest genius without tuition.
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Maintain a constant watch at all times against a dogmatical spirit: fix not your assent to any proposition in a firm and unalterable manner, till you have some firm and unalterable ground for it, and till you have arrived at some clear and sure evidence.
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Whene'er I take my walks abroad,How many poor I see!What shall I render to my GodFor all his gifts to me?
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I love the soul that dares tread the temptations of his years beneath his youthful feet.
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From all who dwell below the skiesLet the Creator's praise ariseLet the Redeemer's name be sungThrough every land, by every tongue.
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In Job and the Psalms we shall find more sublime ideas, more elevated language, than in any of the heathen versifiers of Greece or Rome.
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Ten thousand things there are which we believe merely upon the authority or credit of those who have spoken or written them.
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No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found.
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A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun.
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Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.
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In works of labour or of skillI would be busy too:For Satan finds some mischief stillFor idle hands to do.
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Was it for crimes that I had done He groaned upon the tree? Amazing pity! Grace unknown! And love beyond degree!
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There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
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Sweet is the day of sacred rest No mortal cares shall seize my breast O may my heart in tune be found Like David's harp of solemn sound.
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Everyday is a birthday every moment of it is new to us we are born again, renewed for fresh work and endeavor.
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Our God, our help in ages past,Our hope for years to come,Our shelter from the stormy blast,And our eternal home.
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