The Poets and the Poetry of the Nineteenth Century, Volume 11

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Alfred Henry Miles
G. Routledge & Sons, Limited, 1906

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Página 53 - Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide thee, though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see, only thou art holy, there is none beside thee perfect in power, in love, and purity. 4 Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! all thy works shall praise thy name in earth and sky and sea; Holy, holy, holy!
Página 5 - Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam ; Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home.
Página 248 - I HEARD the voice of Jesus say, ' Come unto Me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon My breast.' I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. 2 I heard the voice of Jesus say, ' Behold, I freely give The living water ; thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live.
Página 215 - NEARER, my God ! to thee, Nearer to thee ! E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me ! Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God ! to thee, Nearer to thee...
Página 215 - I'd be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee ! 3 There let the way appear Steps unto heaven; All that thou sendest me, In mercy given; Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee!
Página 161 - ABIDE with me ; fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Página 13 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try : Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. 4 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death ; He enters heaven with prayer. 5 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways ; While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry—
Página 21 - Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life ; In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. " Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found ?" Art thou a man ? — a patriot ? — look around ; Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home...
Página 85 - Just as I am Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ! Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come...
Página 11 - The voice at midnight came, He started up to hear ; A mortal arrow pierced his frame — He fell, but felt no fear.

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