The Sunday Book of PoetryMacmillan, 1865 - 318 sider A collection of religious poetry for children. Also includes prayers and hymns. |
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Resultater 1-5 af 40
Side 3
... from shore to shore Shall the counter - tenor roar . To this concert , when we sing , Whistling winds , your descant bring : Which may bear the sound above Where the orb of B 2 Book of Poetry 3 To your voices tune the lute: ...
... from shore to shore Shall the counter - tenor roar . To this concert , when we sing , Whistling winds , your descant bring : Which may bear the sound above Where the orb of B 2 Book of Poetry 3 To your voices tune the lute: ...
Side 9
... winds received their song . “ What should we do but sing His praise That led us through the watery maze , Unto an isle so long unknown , And yet far kinder than our own . " Where He the huge sea - monsters racks , That lift the deep ...
... winds received their song . “ What should we do but sing His praise That led us through the watery maze , Unto an isle so long unknown , And yet far kinder than our own . " Where He the huge sea - monsters racks , That lift the deep ...
Side 36
... wind , That now dilate , and now decrease , Peace and goodwill , goodwill and peace , Peace and goodwill , to all mankind . Rise , happy morn ! rise , holy morn ! Draw forth the cheerful day from night : O Father ! touch the east , and ...
... wind , That now dilate , and now decrease , Peace and goodwill , goodwill and peace , Peace and goodwill , to all mankind . Rise , happy morn ! rise , holy morn ! Draw forth the cheerful day from night : O Father ! touch the east , and ...
Side 70
... winds sigh'd . Sigh'd when at eve He laid Him down , But with a sound like flame At midnight from the mountain's crown Upon His slumbers came . Lo , how they watch , till He awake , Around His rude low bed ; How wistful count the waves ...
... winds sigh'd . Sigh'd when at eve He laid Him down , But with a sound like flame At midnight from the mountain's crown Upon His slumbers came . Lo , how they watch , till He awake , Around His rude low bed ; How wistful count the waves ...
Side 82
... sweet Spirit is the breathing wind . Something it chanted , too , of exiled men , On the sad bank of that strange river , Life , Hanging the harp of their deep heart - desires To rest upon the willow of the Cross , And 82 The Sunday.
... sweet Spirit is the breathing wind . Something it chanted , too , of exiled men , On the sad bank of that strange river , Life , Hanging the harp of their deep heart - desires To rest upon the willow of the Cross , And 82 The Sunday.
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angels art thou Ben Jonson beneath bird bless blest breast breath bright calm child Christ cloud dark dead dear death deep divine doth dream dust E'en earth eternal evermore eyes faith faithless fear flowers gaze glorious glory God's golden grace grave grief hand happy hast hath hear heard heart Heaven heavenly Henry Hart Milman holy Holy habits Holy Holy hope hour HYMN Jesus John Dryden John Milton Keble king Lamb of God land light live look'd Lord lowly Miserere morn ne'er never night o'er pass'd peace praise prayer rest round sacred saints Saviour shalt shine sing skies sleep smile soft solemn song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star star of Bethlehem strife sweet Sweet day tears thee thine Thou art thought throne tomb unto voice wave weary weep wild William Walsham wind wings word Wykeham's
Populære passager
Side 2 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice Returning from his ways, While angels in their songs rejoice, Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death ; He enters Heaven with prayer.
Side 97 - O ! th" exceeding grace Of highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe ! How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succour us that succour want ! How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, Against foul fiends to aid us militant ! They for us fight, they watch and duly ward, And their bright squadrons round about us...
Side 250 - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled Heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand.
Side 218 - I heard the voice of Jesus say, " Behold, I freely give The living water ; thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live !" I came to Jesus, and I drank Of that life-giving stream ; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him. 3 I heard the voice of Jesus say, " I am this dark world's light ; Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright.
Side 111 - A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Side 237 - What would we give to our beloved ? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep, The patriot's voice to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown to light the brows,— He giveth his beloved sleep...
Side 8 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head...
Side 142 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Side 143 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Side 192 - Let us be patient! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.