Sacred PoetryJ. Crockford, 1854 - 236 pages |
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Results 1-5 of 47
Page iv
... ... ::: ... ... 129 ... 170 Hymn to Death ... ... Hymn ... ... " Blessed are they that Mourn " Sonnet to Song of the Stars ... ... ... ... ... 69 104 ... 133 ... 189 ... 210 BURNS , ROBERT . Verses left at a Friend's House iv INDEX .
... ... ::: ... ... 129 ... 170 Hymn to Death ... ... Hymn ... ... " Blessed are they that Mourn " Sonnet to Song of the Stars ... ... ... ... ... 69 104 ... 133 ... 189 ... 210 BURNS , ROBERT . Verses left at a Friend's House iv INDEX .
Page 5
... song the Virgin - Mother sung . They told her how a glorious light , Streaming from a heavenly throng , Around them shone suspending night ! While , sweeter than a mother's song , Bless'd angels heralded the Saviour's birth , Glory to ...
... song the Virgin - Mother sung . They told her how a glorious light , Streaming from a heavenly throng , Around them shone suspending night ! While , sweeter than a mother's song , Bless'd angels heralded the Saviour's birth , Glory to ...
Page 17
... soarest O'er the mute empurpled moor ! Throstle's song , that stream - like flowest ! Wind , that over dew - drop goest ! Welcome now the woe - worn poor . Little river , Young for ever ! Cloud , gold SACRED POETRY . 17.
... soarest O'er the mute empurpled moor ! Throstle's song , that stream - like flowest ! Wind , that over dew - drop goest ! Welcome now the woe - worn poor . Little river , Young for ever ! Cloud , gold SACRED POETRY . 17.
Page 29
... songs have ceased , —and busy men Are to their beds of silence creeping ; The pale , cold moon looks out again On the tired world so softly sleeping . Oh ! in an hour so still as this , From care , and toil , and tumult stealing , I'll ...
... songs have ceased , —and busy men Are to their beds of silence creeping ; The pale , cold moon looks out again On the tired world so softly sleeping . Oh ! in an hour so still as this , From care , and toil , and tumult stealing , I'll ...
Page 32
... song . The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath Of tedded grass , mingled with faded flowers That yestermorn bloom'd waving in the breeze . Sounds the most faint attract the ear ; -the hum Of early bee , the trickling of the dew ...
... song . The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath Of tedded grass , mingled with faded flowers That yestermorn bloom'd waving in the breeze . Sounds the most faint attract the ear ; -the hum Of early bee , the trickling of the dew ...
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Common terms and phrases
angels beam beauty behold beneath Blackwood's Magazine blessed blest bliss bloom breast breath bright brow Casa Wappy Christ clouds dark dead death divine dost doth dread dream dust dust to dust earth earthly eternal fair fear flame flowers gaze GEORGE CROLY gloom glorious glory God's grace grave grief hallow'd hand hath heart heaven heavenly holy hope Hosanna hour immortal JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL light lips living lonely look'd Lord mercy morn mortal mountains mourn N. P. WILLIS night o'er pale peace praise prayer rapture rest rise round S. T. COLERIDGE seem'd seraph shade shine sigh silent sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star of Bethlehem stars stood sweet tears temple thee thine things THOMAS MOORE thou art Thou hast thought throne tomb trembling turn'd unto vale voice wandering waves wild WILLIAM ALLINGHAM wind wings
Popular passages
Page 38 - THOU art, O God ! the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. Where'er we turn thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
Page 45 - AND is there care in heaven? And is there love In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, That may compassion of their evils move ? There is...
Page 84 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If knowing G-od, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Page 199 - There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or Winter rises in the blackening east ; Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat.
Page 64 - See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies!
Page 28 - Like to the falling of a star; Or as the flights of eagles are; Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue; Or silver drops of morning dew; Or like a wind that chafes the flood; Or bubbles which on water stood; Even such is man, whose borrowed light Is straight called in, and paid to night. The wind blows out; the bubble dies; The spring entombed in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past; and man forgot.
Page 87 - Thou art not certain ; For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the moon. If thou art rich, thou art poor ; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee.
Page 80 - Let us be patient! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Page 139 - How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us that succour want ! How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting...
Page 43 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.