Lyra Sacra: Being a Collection of Hymns Ancient and Modern, Odes and Fragments of Sacred PoetryBourchier Wrey Savile Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1862 - 280 страници |
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adore angels art thou aſk beams beauty bleffed bleft blifs breaſt breath bright Cafa Wappy celeftial Chrift cloſe croſs darkneſs death divine doth dreft duft earth endleſs eternal everlaſting facred fafe faints Faith Father fear feem fhade fhall fhines figh fight filent fing firſt fleep fmile foar foft fome fong forrow foul ftand ftar ftill ftream fuch fweet glorious glory grace Hallelujah hath heart Heaven heavenly Himſelf holy hour hymn itſelf Jefus Jerufalem laft laſt life's light living Lord mercy moſt muſt night o'er paffed paſt peace PETER DAMIAN pleaſure praiſe prayer raiſe reft reſt rife Saviour Sea of Galilee ſee ſeem ſhall ſhed ſhould ſkies ſky ſmile ſpeak ſphere ſpirit ſpread ſpring ſtars ſtay ſteps ſtill ſweet SYNESIUS tears Thee theſe thine thofe thoſe Thou art thought thouſand throne treaſure vifion voice weep whofe whoſe wings
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Страница 79 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Страница 77 - His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Страница 79 - Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
Страница 134 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Страница 114 - 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.
Страница 108 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Страница 89 - twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee. 5 Take, my soul, thy full salvation ; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care ; Joy to find, in every station, Something still to do or bear. Think what Spirit dwells within thee...
Страница 90 - See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown...
Страница 49 - HAIL to the Lord's Anointed, Great David's greater Son ; Hail, in the time appointed, His reign on earth begun ; He comes to break oppression, To set the captive free, To take away transgression, And rule in equity.
Страница 203 - When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills and they To heaven.