Choice descriptive poetry, selected by a lady |
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Página 2
... breath beneath the hill , Of Sharon's dewy rose ! Lo such the child whose early feet , The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart , with influence sweet , Is upwards drawn to God ! By cool Siloam's shady rill , The lily must ...
... breath beneath the hill , Of Sharon's dewy rose ! Lo such the child whose early feet , The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart , with influence sweet , Is upwards drawn to God ! By cool Siloam's shady rill , The lily must ...
Página 3
... breathe on its fadeless bloom ; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb , It is there , it is there , my child ! MRS . HEMANS . THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM . Jeremiah xix .; xxxiii . B 2 3 Heaven or the Better Land Prayer for a ...
... breathe on its fadeless bloom ; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb , It is there , it is there , my child ! MRS . HEMANS . THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM . Jeremiah xix .; xxxiii . B 2 3 Heaven or the Better Land Prayer for a ...
Página 8
... breathing morn , The swallow twittering from the straw - built shed ; The cock's shrill clarion , or the echoing horn- No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed . For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn , Or busy housewife ...
... breathing morn , The swallow twittering from the straw - built shed ; The cock's shrill clarion , or the echoing horn- No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed . For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn , Or busy housewife ...
Página 9
... breathing breast , And flowers shall grow , and grass shall wave , Where these cold limbs were laid to rest . And years on years shall circle round , Till millions more have died like me : At length shall come the trumpet's sound , All ...
... breathing breast , And flowers shall grow , and grass shall wave , Where these cold limbs were laid to rest . And years on years shall circle round , Till millions more have died like me : At length shall come the trumpet's sound , All ...
Página 20
... . I love to meet the little throng Of humble saints , and join their prayers ; And in their sweet melodious song , I love to blend my voice with theirs . Their wing'd devotions warmly breath'd , Like incense from the 20 The Sabbath Morn.
... . I love to meet the little throng Of humble saints , and join their prayers ; And in their sweet melodious song , I love to blend my voice with theirs . Their wing'd devotions warmly breath'd , Like incense from the 20 The Sabbath Morn.
Palavras e frases frequentes
angel Art Thou ask'd beauty behold beneath beneath the sky BERNARD BARTON bless blest bliss bloom breath breeze bright celestial child dead dear death deep delight DESCRIPTIVE POETRY dust to dust dwell Earth to earth earthly eternal fair Father Father's Name flood flowers glorious glory grace grave green happiest happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy homes of England hour humble Israel Jesus Learn to labour life's light live Lord loves me best MILLENNIAL SABBATH mountains moving heart night night into morning o'er pass'd path peace perfect bliss praise pray prayer reign rest rise round sabbath bell sacred Saviour's shine shore sleep smile song soul Speak gently spirit star by star storm stormy tempests blow strange hills sweet tear tell thee thine Thou art thought throne Thy neighbour toil tomb trees Twas voice
Passagens conhecidas
Página 73 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Página 33 - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white, then melts forever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place ; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide ; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
Página 34 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Página 37 - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live ; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die.
Página 43 - They sin who tell us love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In heaven ambition cannot dwell, Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; Earthly these passions of the earth, They perish where they have their birth. But love is indestructible— Its holy flame for ever burneth ; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.