Lays for the Sabbath: A Collection of Religious PoetryCrosby and Nichols, 1850 - 288 стор. |
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Сторінка xiii
... Look on him - through his dungeon grate , 27 Lord , who art merciful as well as just , Low in the dim and sultry west , 242 149 Methinks it is good to be here , 260 Mother , I am dying now , 66 My God , all nature owns thy sway , 169 My ...
... Look on him - through his dungeon grate , 27 Lord , who art merciful as well as just , Low in the dim and sultry west , 242 149 Methinks it is good to be here , 260 Mother , I am dying now , 66 My God , all nature owns thy sway , 169 My ...
Сторінка 25
... look cold as death ! Oh ! often and often have I escaped From the stir of the noisy crowd , And a thousand fanciful visions shaped On the face of a passing cloud . The clouds ! the clouds ! round the sun at 25 The Clouds, M A Browne.
... look cold as death ! Oh ! often and often have I escaped From the stir of the noisy crowd , And a thousand fanciful visions shaped On the face of a passing cloud . The clouds ! the clouds ! round the sun at 25 The Clouds, M A Browne.
Сторінка 27
... Look on him - through his dungeon grate , Feebly and cold , the morning light Comes stealing round him , dim and late , As if it loathed the sight . Reclining on his strawy bed , His hand upholds his 27 God is Love, Anonymous The Poor ...
... Look on him - through his dungeon grate , Feebly and cold , the morning light Comes stealing round him , dim and late , As if it loathed the sight . Reclining on his strawy bed , His hand upholds his 27 God is Love, Anonymous The Poor ...
Сторінка 29
... Look forth , thou man of many scars , Through thy dim dungeon's iron bars ; It must be joy , in sooth , to see Yon monument upreared to thee- Piled granite and a prison cell— The land repays thy service well ! Go , ring the bells and ...
... Look forth , thou man of many scars , Through thy dim dungeon's iron bars ; It must be joy , in sooth , to see Yon monument upreared to thee- Piled granite and a prison cell— The land repays thy service well ! Go , ring the bells and ...
Сторінка 33
... look round and see a vacant seat , You will not wait then for my coming feet- You'll miss me there . " Father , I'm going home , To that great home you spoke of , that bless'd land Where there is one bright summer , always bland , And ...
... look round and see a vacant seat , You will not wait then for my coming feet- You'll miss me there . " Father , I'm going home , To that great home you spoke of , that bless'd land Where there is one bright summer , always bland , And ...
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amaranthine beams beauty beneath bids bird bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom bowers breast breath breeze bright brow child CHRISTOPHER SMART clouds cold dark death divine dust earth earthly eternal fade fair faith fear feel fire flowers gloom glorious glory glow golden grace grave grief harp hath heart heaven heavenly holy hope hopes and fears hour HYMN Israel light lonely Lord lyre mercy mighty morn mortal mother's mourn night o'er pale peace praise prayer rest rill rise roll rose round Sabbath Sabian sacred Savior scene seraph sere shade shine sigh silent silver air skies sleep smile song soothe sorrow soul sphere spirit spring Star of Bethlehem stars storm stream sunny brow sweet tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne tomb tongue tread unforgiven vale voice wakes wandering wandering fires wave weep wind wings youth
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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 267 - When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Will rising wonders sing.
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...
Сторінка 36 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set -but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...