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age to age Amidst arms art thou battle of Sempach beauty behold beneath bird birth bless bliss blood bloom breast breath bulged flanks clouds cried darkness dead dear death delightful bands dream dust earth eternal face Falkland father fear fire fix'd flame fled flowers foes gloom glory grace grave grief hand hath head hear heart heaven hope land light living living wall look'd Lord lyre MEMNON mercy mind moon Morna morning mother's mountains Nature's never night numbers o'er ocean pale peace praise prayer PSALM rapture rest Richard Reynolds rose round seem'd shade shine sighs sight sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit spring star storm streams of passion sweet tears tempest thee thine thou thought throne tomb trembling truth turn'd Twas vale voice wake weep wild wind wing youth
Страница 75 - 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 345 - I gave him all ; he blessed it, brake, And ate; but gave me part again; Mine was an angel's portion then; For, while I fed with eager haste, That crust was manna to my taste.
Страница 235 - Once, in the flight of ages past, There lived a man — and who was he ? Mortal, howe'er thy lot be cast, That man resembled thee.
Страница 235 - Alternate triumphed in his breast; His bliss and woe, a smile, a tear ! Oblivion hides the rest. The bounding pulse, the languid limb, The changing spirits' rise and fall, We know that these were felt by him, For these are felt by all.
Страница 385 - THE bird that soars on highest wing Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; And she that doth most sweetly sing Sings in the shade when all things rest : — In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility. 2 When Mary chose the better part, She meekly sat at Jesus...
Страница 347 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest.
Страница 65 - Confesses he has none. 428. 7s. M. 6 1. The Soul panting for God. 1 As the hart, with eager looks, Panteth for the water-brooks, So my soul, athirst for thee, Pants the living God to see ; When, O when, with filial fear, Lord, shall I to thee draw near ? 2 Why art thou cast down, my soul ? God, thy God, shall make thee whole : Why art thou disquieted ? God shall lift thy fallen head, And his countenance benign Be the saving health of thine.
Страница 342 - Thrice welcome, little English flower! My mother-country's white and red, In rose or lily, till this hour, Never to me such beauty spread: Transplanted from thine island-bed, A treasure in a grain of earth, Strange as a spirit from the dead, Thine embryo sprang to birth.