Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 стор. |
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Сторінка 23
... pleasures and our discontents , Are rounds by which we may ascend . The low desire - the base design That makes another's virtues less , The revel of the giddy wine , And all occasions of excess ; The longing for ignoble things , The ...
... pleasures and our discontents , Are rounds by which we may ascend . The low desire - the base design That makes another's virtues less , The revel of the giddy wine , And all occasions of excess ; The longing for ignoble things , The ...
Сторінка 25
... pleasure seeking , money making , and money spending , without a care by those who have for those who want , so that if a man struggles a little to the front himself , he heeds not what becomes of his brother who toils - when , if you ...
... pleasure seeking , money making , and money spending , without a care by those who have for those who want , so that if a man struggles a little to the front himself , he heeds not what becomes of his brother who toils - when , if you ...
Сторінка 51
... pleasure . Let her will Be done - to weep or not to weep . I will not say , ' God's ordinance Of death is blown in every wind ; " For that is not a common chance , That takes away a noble mind . His memory long will live alone In all ...
... pleasure . Let her will Be done - to weep or not to weep . I will not say , ' God's ordinance Of death is blown in every wind ; " For that is not a common chance , That takes away a noble mind . His memory long will live alone In all ...
Сторінка 58
... pleasures , and degrading follies of the flesh . Let me read to you some of that strange rhapsody in which the man's mind sometimes seems to give way ; and it is quite evident that at certain points he is wandering , at other times he ...
... pleasures , and degrading follies of the flesh . Let me read to you some of that strange rhapsody in which the man's mind sometimes seems to give way ; and it is quite evident that at certain points he is wandering , at other times he ...
Сторінка 68
... pleasure , and passion , and suffer- ing - and brooding over all the sad Nemesis of the senses . And as I look around me I see the giddy way in which the men and women - not only of this age , but of every age - hurry on and on after ...
... pleasure , and passion , and suffer- ing - and brooding over all the sad Nemesis of the senses . And as I look around me I see the giddy way in which the men and women - not only of this age , but of every age - hurry on and on after ...
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Сторінка 21 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Сторінка 18 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Сторінка 275 - Through the dear might of him that walked the waves ; Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing, in their glory move And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Сторінка 16 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Сторінка 237 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright; The bridal of the earth and sky : The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die.
Сторінка 267 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Сторінка 269 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Сторінка 251 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Сторінка 180 - New mercies, each returning day, Hover around us while we pray ; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice.
Сторінка 271 - No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around: The idle spear and shield were high up hung; The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the arme'd throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by 51 TT 52 BOOK SECOND.