The Rose of Sharon: A Religious Souvenir for MDCCCLII

Capa
Caroline Mehetabel Sawyer
A. Tompkins and B.B. Mussey, 1852 - 303 páginas
"The thriteenth appearance of an annual collection of writings by Universalists. The volume is illustrated with a steel-engraved frontispiece and five plates by H.W. Smith after works by Whipple, Caracce, Poussin, Jones and Jules Laure, as well as an additional steel-engraved title page after Warren by O. Pelton"--PRBM

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Página 178 - Thou whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy soul's immensity; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage; thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Página 178 - Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song: Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his 'humorous stage...
Página 179 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Página 178 - The homely nurse doth all she can To make her foster-child, her inmate, Man, Forget the glories he hath known And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years
Página 266 - THERE'S something in a noble boy, A brave, free-hearted, careless one, With his uncheck'd, unbidden joy, His dread of books and love of fun, And in his clear and ready smile, Unshaded by a thought of guile, And unrepress'd by sadness — Which brings me to my childhood baclc, As if I trod its very track, And felt its very gladness.
Página 149 - Abraham feared him or not, till he had tried him by commanding him to offer his son as a burnt-offering. But when Abraham had bound his son, and lifted up the knife to take his life, God is represented as saying : "Now I know thou fearest me; since thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from me.
Página 137 - Nature as we see it has been so unvaried and inflexible, — the fall and disappearance of the successive generations of men so much like that of the annually renewed foliage of the forest — that even Faith hangs trembling over the brink of the grave, and tearfully, dubiously asks, " If a man die shall he he live again ? " Most of us believe he will, and yet would give very much to know it. The stupendous events, which gave assurance of man's immortality two thousand years ago, seem to fade into...
Página 237 - The amount and value of a man's influence, for good or evil, upon the world, will generally depend upon the character of his indirect and unconscious influence. Personal perfection, — the Christian refinement of feelings and sentiments, faithfulness to all the duties of the more private relations we sustain, are inexorably demanded by the Almighty, and by the spirit of Christ's gospel ; and demanded the more rigorously because the effect of such fidelity does not end with ourselves, but goes forth,...
Página 298 - A sheep is lost ! A restless lamb astray Hath wandered from the fold ! Send forth the cry, " 'Twill be devoured ! " Fierce ravening monsters lie In wait to rend it ! Rouse the shepherd ! Nay ! Since the first dawning of the murky day, He has been out among the desert hills Where lurks that brood whose fang a drop distils, Whose touch is death! He knows the wolf may slay His helpless lamb ; far down the precipice That jagged rocks may crush its tender form ; And the Good Shepherd will search on, nor...
Página 58 - HD1 ! 1 Again, and yet again ; — O, Fate ! Hadst thou no kinder smile for those Who, in the dire and dreadful strait, For liberty and country rose ? Its failing food no more supplied, , The booming cannon's deadly peal • To deep and sullen silence died, And all was lost on Bunker Hill ! Yet not in vain — O, not in vain ! — Those Hearts of Oak endured the strife ! A soul that never slept again Awoke that day to deathless life. As sprang the fabled bird of yore From its own ashes, so, 'mid...

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