Sabbath Recreations: Or, Select Poetry of a Religious KindOtis, Broaders, 1839 - 288 стор. |
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Сторінка 23
... If to my soul one note were given Of that high harp , whose sweeter tone Caught its majestic strain from heaven , And glowed like fire round Israel's throne ; Up to the deep blue starry sky Then might my 23 Stanzas, W Scott.
... If to my soul one note were given Of that high harp , whose sweeter tone Caught its majestic strain from heaven , And glowed like fire round Israel's throne ; Up to the deep blue starry sky Then might my 23 Stanzas, W Scott.
Сторінка 24
... deep blue starry sky Then might my soul aspire , and hold Communion fervent , strong and high , With bard and king , and prophet old : Then might my spirit dare to trace The path our ancient people trod , When the gray sires of Jacob's ...
... deep blue starry sky Then might my soul aspire , and hold Communion fervent , strong and high , With bard and king , and prophet old : Then might my spirit dare to trace The path our ancient people trod , When the gray sires of Jacob's ...
Сторінка 26
... deep blue firmament , Now it shows their folds between , As if a silver veil were rent From the jewelled brow of a queen . The clouds ! the clouds ! they are the lid To the lightning's flashing eye ; And in their fleecy folds is hid The ...
... deep blue firmament , Now it shows their folds between , As if a silver veil were rent From the jewelled brow of a queen . The clouds ! the clouds ! they are the lid To the lightning's flashing eye ; And in their fleecy folds is hid The ...
Сторінка 31
... deep'ning to an organ tone , In all their solemn cadence sweep , And pour , unheard , along the wild , Their desert anthem o'er a child . She came , and passed . Can I forget How we whose hearts had hailed her birth , Ere three autumnal ...
... deep'ning to an organ tone , In all their solemn cadence sweep , And pour , unheard , along the wild , Their desert anthem o'er a child . She came , and passed . Can I forget How we whose hearts had hailed her birth , Ere three autumnal ...
Сторінка 32
... deep suffocation on my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed , And on my brow I feel the cold sweat stand . Say , mother , is this death ? Mother , 32 The Dying Boy, Anonymous Lines on passing the Grave of my Sister, Flint.
... deep suffocation on my breast , As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed , And on my brow I feel the cold sweat stand . Say , mother , is this death ? Mother , 32 The Dying Boy, Anonymous Lines on passing the Grave of my Sister, Flint.
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Sabbath Recreations, Or, Select Poetry of a Religious Kind: Chiefly Taken ... John Pierpont,Emily Taylor Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2013 |
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amaranthine angels beams beauty beneath Bernard Barton bids bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow Caroline Fry child clouds cold dark dead death DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB divine dust earth earthly Edmeston Emily Taylor eternal fade fair Father fear feel fire flowers gloom glorious glory glow grace grave grief harp hath heart heaven heavenly Herbert Knowles holy hope hopes and fears hour HYMN leaves light lonely Lord lyre mighty morn mortal Mother's Love mourn night o'er pale peace praise prayer rest rill rise roll rose round Sabbath sacred Savior scene shade shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul sphere spirit spring Star of Bethlehem stars storm stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne tomb tread vale voice wakes wandering wave weep wind wings youth
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Сторінка 207 - DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ. I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the hrute. 0 solitude! where are the charms
Сторінка 274 - of light, Angels ! for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing. Ye in heaven! On earth, join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end! Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, Sure pledge of day, that
Сторінка 133 - in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars in the sea When the blue ware rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset
Сторінка 188 - gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with a thousand eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine. And every flower the summer wreathes Is born beneath that kindling eye: Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine. THE
Сторінка 205 - the blood of goat, The flesh of rams, I will not prize ; A contrite heart, an humble thought, Are mine accepted sacrifice." FUNERAL HYMN. YE midnight shades, o'er nature spread! Dumb silence of the dreary hour! In honor of the approaching dead, Around your awful terrors pour. Yes, pour around On this pale ground,
Сторінка 163 - roam : But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. So grant me, God, from every care And stain of passion free, Aloft, through virtue's purer air, To hold my course to
Сторінка 188 - vistas into heaven, Those hues that mark the sun's decline, So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine. When night, with wings of stormy gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with a thousand eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
Сторінка 201 - men, And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade, and glen. And now when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home, When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all The
Сторінка 157 - origin divine, God's glorious image—freed from clay, In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, A star of day ! The sun is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky; The soul, immortal as its Sire, SHALL NEVER DIE ! GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES.—A
Сторінка 177 - THE REV. W. MASON. TAKE, holy earth, all that my soul holds dear; Take that best gift, which Heaven so lately gave. To Bristol's fount I bore, with trembling care, Her faded form—she how'd to taste the wave, And died ! Does youth, does beauty read the line ? Does sympathetic fear their breast alarm ? Speak, dead