The Wheat-sheaf; Or, Gleanings for the Wayside and Fireside ...W.P. Hazard, 1853 - 416 страници |
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Страница 20
... thou With courtesy receive him : rise and bow : And ere his shadow pass thy threshold , crave Permission first his heavenly feet to lave . Then lay before him all thou hast . Allow No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow , Or mar thy ...
... thou With courtesy receive him : rise and bow : And ere his shadow pass thy threshold , crave Permission first his heavenly feet to lave . Then lay before him all thou hast . Allow No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow , Or mar thy ...
Страница 23
... thou see ? " " I see nought but the Vast " What matter ? he's calm ! but ah stranger , if you Had your hand on his ... thou Galileo ! Far better to die Than thus , by a terrible effort , to lie ! When thou gave , by an agony deep and ...
... thou see ? " " I see nought but the Vast " What matter ? he's calm ! but ah stranger , if you Had your hand on his ... thou Galileo ! Far better to die Than thus , by a terrible effort , to lie ! When thou gave , by an agony deep and ...
Страница 32
... thou and succour him . Thy neighbour ? ' Tis the weary man Whose years are at the brim , Bent low with sickness , cares and pain , Go thou and comfort him . Thy neighbour ? ' Tis the heart bereft Of every earthly gem : Widow and orphan ...
... thou and succour him . Thy neighbour ? ' Tis the weary man Whose years are at the brim , Bent low with sickness , cares and pain , Go thou and comfort him . Thy neighbour ? ' Tis the heart bereft Of every earthly gem : Widow and orphan ...
Страница 33
... thou and ransom him . Where'ere thou meet'st a human form , Less favored than thine own , Remember ' tis thy neighbour worm , Thy brother or thy son . Oh pass not , pass not heedless by : Perhaps thou can'st redeem The breaking heart ...
... thou and ransom him . Where'ere thou meet'st a human form , Less favored than thine own , Remember ' tis thy neighbour worm , Thy brother or thy son . Oh pass not , pass not heedless by : Perhaps thou can'st redeem The breaking heart ...
Страница 46
... thou servest , To both is true . Thrust in thy sickle ! England's toil - worn peasants , Thy call abide : And she thou mourn'st , a pure and holy presence , Shall glean beside ! J. G. W. Crue Rest . SWEET is the pleasure itself cannot ...
... thou servest , To both is true . Thrust in thy sickle ! England's toil - worn peasants , Thy call abide : And she thou mourn'st , a pure and holy presence , Shall glean beside ! J. G. W. Crue Rest . SWEET is the pleasure itself cannot ...
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Absalom ages angel beauty beneath blessed bright brow called child Christ Christian cloud DANIEL WHEELER dark dead dear death deep divine dreams earth Edward Burrough eternal evil faith father fear feel fell Fenelon flowers gentle George Fox glorious glory Gospel grave hand hast hath head hear heart Heaven holy honour hope hour human hymn immortal JAMES NAYLER JOHN HOWARD JOHN WOOLMAN labour life's light lips living LOGAN'S LAMENT look Lord MELANCTHON mercy mighty mind Mosul mountains N. P. WILLIS nature never night NINEVEH o'er passed peace Penn poor praise prayer prison Quaker religion round says seemed shadow shalt shining silent song sorrow soul spirit star strong sweet tears thee thine things THOMAS ELLWOOD thou thought TINTERN ABBEY tion truth unto voice waves weary wild William Penn words young
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Страница 276 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Страница 157 - O men with Sisters dear ! O men with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
Страница 158 - Oh but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet, — With the sky above my head, And the grass beneath my feet! For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want And the walk that costs a meal!
Страница 196 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Страница 172 - Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in...
Страница 372 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Страница 277 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth...
Страница 197 - The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom — Take the wings Of morning — and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings...
Страница 198 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Страница 158 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread : Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this