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beams beauty beneath bids bird bless bliss bloom bowers breast breath bright brow child clouds cold dark dead death deep divine dust earth earthly eternal fade fair faith fall Father fear feel fire flow flowers give gloom glorious glory golden grace grave hand hath head hear heard heart heaven heavenly hill holy hope hour HYMN leaves light living lonely look Lord meet mind morn mortal mother's nature never night o'er once pain pale pass path peace praise prayer rest rise roll rose round scene seek shade shine sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit spread spring stars storm stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought throne tomb voice wakes wave weep wind wings wisdom youth
Сторінка 186 - THOU art, O God, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
Сторінка 87 - Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best • His state Is kingly. Thousands at His bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest : They also serve who only stand and wait.
Сторінка 138 - Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew: Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn ; Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save. But when shall Spring visit the mouldering urn? O, when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?
Сторінка 265 - The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise, whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Сторінка 171 - What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown ; The heathen, in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone...
Сторінка 262 - In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
Сторінка 265 - These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of thee.
Сторінка 203 - But present still, though now unseen, When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And oh, when stoops on Judah's path In shade and storm the frequent night, Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light! 101 Our harps we left by Babel's...