The Harp and the Cross: A Collection of Religious PoetryWalker, Wise,, 1861 - 348 pages |
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Page 1
... , With light they blend . The lark , by his own carol blest , From the green harbors eager springs ; And his large heart in little breast Exulting sings . On lands and seas , on fields and woods , 1 NATURE Morning Hymn of a Hermit PART.
... , With light they blend . The lark , by his own carol blest , From the green harbors eager springs ; And his large heart in little breast Exulting sings . On lands and seas , on fields and woods , 1 NATURE Morning Hymn of a Hermit PART.
Page 5
... sing , From insects fluttering on the wing , Ay , from the very meanest thing , My spirit joy receives . I think of angel voices When the birds ' songs I hear ; Of that celestial city , bright With jacinth , gold , and chrysolite , When ...
... sing , From insects fluttering on the wing , Ay , from the very meanest thing , My spirit joy receives . I think of angel voices When the birds ' songs I hear ; Of that celestial city , bright With jacinth , gold , and chrysolite , When ...
Page 10
... sings , As it was wont of old , That lay of gratitude which burst From young heart uncontrolled , When , in the midst of nature nursed , Sweet influences fell On childly hearts that were athirst , Like soft dews in the bell Of tender ...
... sings , As it was wont of old , That lay of gratitude which burst From young heart uncontrolled , When , in the midst of nature nursed , Sweet influences fell On childly hearts that were athirst , Like soft dews in the bell Of tender ...
Page 28
... sing- eth , Rippling o'er pebbles bare ? Sorrow the mystery shall teach thee And the words declare . Wouldst thou find in the rose's blossom More than thy fellows find ? More in the fragrance of the lily Than odor on the wind ? Love ...
... sing- eth , Rippling o'er pebbles bare ? Sorrow the mystery shall teach thee And the words declare . Wouldst thou find in the rose's blossom More than thy fellows find ? More in the fragrance of the lily Than odor on the wind ? Love ...
Page 48
... Sing we thus our songs of labor At our harvest in the wild , For our God and for our neighbor , Till six times the morn have smiled , And our vessels IF Are with twofold treasure piled . For that one , that heavenly morrow , We may care ...
... Sing we thus our songs of labor At our harvest in the wild , For our God and for our neighbor , Till six times the morn have smiled , And our vessels IF Are with twofold treasure piled . For that one , that heavenly morrow , We may care ...
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Common terms and phrases
angels Arouse thee Baby Carl beam beauty behold BERNARD BARTON Bethpeor bless blest bosom breast breath bright brow calm canopy of love CHARLES MACKAY child Christ clouds COMMUNION HYMN crown dark dear death deep divine doth dream dying band earth earthly eternal eyes fair faith Father fear flowers gaze gleam glorious glory glow God's GOLDEN LEGEND grace grave grief hallows heath hand hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy hope Hosanna hour HYMN Jesus JOHN STERLING life's light live Lord MADAME GUYON mercy morning night o'er peace praise prayer pure rest round Saviour shadow shine SHIRAZ silent sing Sir Launfal smile solemn song SONNET sorrow soul stars stream strife sweet SYLVESTER JUDD tears thine Thou art thou hast thought throne toil trust truth unto voice weary weep whispers wilt wing words YEAR'S DAY
Popular passages
Page 258 - That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Page 147 - 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!
Page 258 - Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last — far off — at last, to all. And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry.
Page 12 - Our outward life requires them not ; Then wherefore had they birth ? — To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth. To comfort man, — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim ; For who so careth for the flowers Will much more care for him ! THE WOODLAND SANCTUARY.
Page 142 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 107 - And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
Page 150 - When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; Sweet the repose beneath Thy wings o'ershading, But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.
Page 51 - And no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er ; For the angels of God upturned the sod, And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth, But no man heard the trampling, Or saw that train go forth. Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun ; Noiselessly as the spring-time Her crown of verdure weaves. And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves...
Page 156 - I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty; I woke, and found that life was duty. Was thy dream then a shadowy lie? Toil on, sad heart, courageously, And thou shalt find thy dream to be A noonday light and truth to thee...
Page 152 - NOT in the solitude Alone may man commune with Heaven, or see, Only in savage wood And sunny vale, the present Deity ; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty ! — here, amidst the crowd Through the great city rolled, With everlasting murmur deep and loud — Choking the ways that wind 'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind.