The Harp and the Cross: A Collection of Religious Poetry

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Walker, Wise,, 1861 - 348 Seiten

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Seite 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...
Seite 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!
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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.
Seite 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...
Seite 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...
Seite 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.

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