Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 стор. |
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... Church of St. James , Marylebone . They took the place of sermons in a series of services entitled " Sunday Evenings for the People . " They were reported in shorthand , revised by the author , and are now issued in accordance . with a ...
... Church of St. James , Marylebone . They took the place of sermons in a series of services entitled " Sunday Evenings for the People . " They were reported in shorthand , revised by the author , and are now issued in accordance . with a ...
Сторінка 29
... churches , but still Christian people ? And why are thousands of homes made miserable , by loss , and want , and despair , whilst Christmas bells are ringing out " Peace on earth and good will towards men " ? Ah ! you have sometimes ...
... churches , but still Christian people ? And why are thousands of homes made miserable , by loss , and want , and despair , whilst Christmas bells are ringing out " Peace on earth and good will towards men " ? Ah ! you have sometimes ...
Сторінка 54
... church . We ask , why did these men leave their comfort and their city life , to wander about in the wilderness in hunger and thirst and nakedness , living in dens and caves , and inflicting ceaseless self - torment ? They went out from ...
... church . We ask , why did these men leave their comfort and their city life , to wander about in the wilderness in hunger and thirst and nakedness , living in dens and caves , and inflicting ceaseless self - torment ? They went out from ...
Сторінка 93
... church of St. James , Westmoreland Street , in a pew just behind the first pillar , about forty - five years ago ; and it is a curious incident , that the first time I saw Alfred Tennyson , in this church not very long ago , he was ...
... church of St. James , Westmoreland Street , in a pew just behind the first pillar , about forty - five years ago ; and it is a curious incident , that the first time I saw Alfred Tennyson , in this church not very long ago , he was ...
Сторінка 95
... Church says , that every human life may be divided into four periods . The first period is that one in which a man is overcome without a struggle ; the second period is that in which a man struggles , but is overcome ; the third is that ...
... Church says , that every human life may be divided into four periods . The first period is that one in which a man is overcome without a struggle ; the second period is that in which a man struggles , but is overcome ; the third is that ...
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Сторінка 248 - Earth has not anything to show more fair ! Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty. This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning : silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples, lie Open unto the fields and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
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 274 - Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due...
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 275 - 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 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. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
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 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 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.