The Sunday Book of PoetryMacmillan, 1865 - 318 стор. A collection of religious poetry for children. Also includes prayers and hymns. |
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Сторінка 56
... Ne'er was living thing , I wot , Which our Lord regarded not . Bird , and beast , and insect rover , — E'en the lilies of the field , Till His gentle life was over , Heavenly thought to Him could yield . All that is , to Him did prove ...
... Ne'er was living thing , I wot , Which our Lord regarded not . Bird , and beast , and insect rover , — E'en the lilies of the field , Till His gentle life was over , Heavenly thought to Him could yield . All that is , to Him did prove ...
Сторінка 73
... Ne'er have ceased to play their part . Oft we hear them In our dreams with thirsty heart . Deeps of blessing are before us : Only while the desert sky And the sheltering cloud hang o'er us Morn by morn obediently , Glean we manna , And ...
... Ne'er have ceased to play their part . Oft we hear them In our dreams with thirsty heart . Deeps of blessing are before us : Only while the desert sky And the sheltering cloud hang o'er us Morn by morn obediently , Glean we manna , And ...
Сторінка 76
... Ne'er shall find thee as we found thee , When thy faith first brought us near , In thy lion fight severe . Go ! and ' mid thy flocks awhile At thy doom of greatness smile ; Bold to bear God's heaviest load , Dimly guessing of the road ...
... Ne'er shall find thee as we found thee , When thy faith first brought us near , In thy lion fight severe . Go ! and ' mid thy flocks awhile At thy doom of greatness smile ; Bold to bear God's heaviest load , Dimly guessing of the road ...
Сторінка 78
... ne'er forgets is here : He hath a word for thee to speak : O serve Him yet in duteous fear , And to thy Gentile lord be meek . So shall the healing Name be known By thee on 78 The Sunday.
... ne'er forgets is here : He hath a word for thee to speak : O serve Him yet in duteous fear , And to thy Gentile lord be meek . So shall the healing Name be known By thee on 78 The Sunday.
Сторінка 118
... ne'er be mine again : I offer no reward- For till these heartstrings sever , I know that Heaven's entrusted gift Is reft away for ever . But when the sea and land , Like burning scroll have fled , I'll see it in His hand , Who judgeth ...
... ne'er be mine again : I offer no reward- For till these heartstrings sever , I know that Heaven's entrusted gift Is reft away for ever . But when the sea and land , Like burning scroll have fled , I'll see it in His hand , Who judgeth ...
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angels art thou Ben Jonson beneath bird bless blest breast breath bright calm child Christ cloud dark dead dear death deep divine doth dream dust E'en earth eternal evermore eyes faith faithless fear flowers gaze glorious glory God's golden grace grave grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart Heaven heavenly Henry Hart Milman holy Holy habits Holy Holy hope hour HYMN Jesus John Dryden John Milton Keble king Lamb of God land light live look'd Lord lowly Miserere morn ne'er never night o'er pass'd peace praise prayer rest round sacred saints Saviour shalt shine sing skies sleep smile soft solemn song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star star of Bethlehem strife sweet Sweet day tears thee thine Thou art thought throne tomb unto voice wave weary weep wild William Walsham wind wings word Wykeham's
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Сторінка 2 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice Returning from his ways, While angels in their songs rejoice, Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death ; He enters Heaven with prayer.
Сторінка 97 - O ! th" exceeding grace Of highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe ! How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us that succour want ! How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant ! They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us...
Сторінка 250 - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled Heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand.
Сторінка 218 - I heard the voice of Jesus say, " Behold, I freely give The living water ; thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live !" I came to Jesus, and I drank Of that life-giving stream ; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him. 3 I heard the voice of Jesus say, " I am this dark world's light ; Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright.
Сторінка 111 - A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Сторінка 237 - What would we give to our beloved ? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep, The patriot's voice to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown to light the brows,— He giveth his beloved sleep...
Сторінка 8 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head...
Сторінка 142 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Сторінка 143 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Сторінка 192 - Let us be patient! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.