Gems from the spirit mine. (League of univ. brotherhood).1850 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 20
Seite 4
... poor negro in his chains , the roving mountain clan ; Redeemer of the forest child , and of the fettered slave ; Lover of every human soul , in city , waste , or wave ! This glorious thought , that kindles now so many a beaming eye ...
... poor negro in his chains , the roving mountain clan ; Redeemer of the forest child , and of the fettered slave ; Lover of every human soul , in city , waste , or wave ! This glorious thought , that kindles now so many a beaming eye ...
Seite 13
... poor may rest , Beneath their own vines blest , In glorious peace ; That death and hell may yield , And human hearts long steeled , By love's pure drops unsealed , From warfare cease . Oh , then ! in God's great name , Let each pure ...
... poor may rest , Beneath their own vines blest , In glorious peace ; That death and hell may yield , And human hearts long steeled , By love's pure drops unsealed , From warfare cease . Oh , then ! in God's great name , Let each pure ...
Seite 21
... - born babes be lost ? Nay , she cannot leave them so , Orphans on the mighty deep ; She must to the Shepherd go , Once more at His feet to throw This poor flock of wandering sheep . Hark ! she reads the Precious Word ; Silence holds 21.
... - born babes be lost ? Nay , she cannot leave them so , Orphans on the mighty deep ; She must to the Shepherd go , Once more at His feet to throw This poor flock of wandering sheep . Hark ! she reads the Precious Word ; Silence holds 21.
Seite 43
... poor , neglected , drivelling fool , No more neglected , finds a friend and home : - The wretched drunkard leaves his madd'ning bowl , While angel - virtues haste to his abode ; The stricken harlot flies her dread patrol , And seeks ...
... poor , neglected , drivelling fool , No more neglected , finds a friend and home : - The wretched drunkard leaves his madd'ning bowl , While angel - virtues haste to his abode ; The stricken harlot flies her dread patrol , And seeks ...
Seite 59
... poor infants droop , Are weakened in our trust in Thee , And how our spirits stoop ; For in thy rest , so bright and fair , All tears and sorrows sleep ; And their young looks , so full of care , Would make thine angels weep . The God ...
... poor infants droop , Are weakened in our trust in Thee , And how our spirits stoop ; For in thy rest , so bright and fair , All tears and sorrows sleep ; And their young looks , so full of care , Would make thine angels weep . The God ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
alliance holy angel ANON banner beauty bend Beneath blessed blood breath bright brother Brotherhood brow Calabar cease CHARLES DICKENS CHARLES MACKAY cheer Christian clime cometh crown dark death deeds deep Dost thou doth E'en earth Elihu Burritt ELIZA COOK England evermore fair fair brow faith fatherland fear flowers Form an alliance gaze gentle GIN PALACE glorious day glory God's grief groans hail hath heart heaven holy and sincere hope hour human Hurrah HYMN JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JOHN BETHUNE labour Lamartine land last cannon-shot light Lord MARY HOWITT mercy mind nations ne'er neath never noble o'er OCEAN PENNY POSTAGE peace poor prayer pride race reign rill scorn shine shore slave smile song soul spirit strife sweet sword teach tears thee thine THOMAS HARRISON thou hast toil truth UNCLE JOHN voice war-spirit wave weep wild William Penn
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 68 - Since Trifles make the Sum of human things And half our misery from our foibles springs Since [life's best joys] consist in peace and ease And [few can] save or serve but all may please: Oh! let the [ungentle] spirit learn from hence, A small unkindness is a great offence. Large bounties to bestow we wish in vain; But all may shun the guilt of giving pain.
Seite 71 - Where is the true man's fatherland? Is It where he by chance is born? Doth not the yearning spirit scorn In such scant borders to be spanned? Oh yes! his fatherland must be As the blue heaven wide and free ! Is it alone where freedom is, Where God is God and man is man?
Seite 70 - Our fathers to their graves have gone ; Their strife is past, their triumph won ; But sterner trials wait the race Which rises in their honored place ; A moral warfare with the crime And folly of an evil time. So let it be. In God's own might We gird us for the coming fight, And, strong in Him whose cause is ours In conflict with unholy powers, We grasp the weapons He has given, — The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.
Seite 14 - I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus, The cries of agony, the endless groan, Which, through the ages that have gone before us, In long reverberations reach our own.
Seite 15 - Which, through the ages that have gone before us, In long reverberations reach our own. On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer, Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song, And loud, amid the universal clamor, O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong.
Seite 16 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts!
Seite 14 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies...
Seite 71 - Where'er a single slave doth pine, Where'er one man may help another, — Thank God for such a birthright, brother, That spot of earth is thine and mine ! There is the true man's birthplace grand, His is a world-wide fatherland...
Seite 47 - O thou who mournest on thy way, With longings for the close of day; He walks with thee, that Angel kind, And gently whispers, "Be resigned: Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell The dear Lord ordereth all things well!
Seite 15 - The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage ; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns ; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade — And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade. Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, With such accursed instruments as these, Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices, And jarrest the celestial harmonies ? Were half the power that fills the world with...