Heavenward: A Collection of Hymns and Poems of ConsolationAnson D.F. Randolph, 1867 - 497 páginas |
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Página 23
... dream . These peaks are nearer Heaven than earth below , These hills are higher than they seem ; ' Tis not the clouds they touch , nor the soft brow Of the o'erbending azure , as we deem : " Tis the blue floor of Heaven that they upbear ...
... dream . These peaks are nearer Heaven than earth below , These hills are higher than they seem ; ' Tis not the clouds they touch , nor the soft brow Of the o'erbending azure , as we deem : " Tis the blue floor of Heaven that they upbear ...
Página 24
... dream . And these keen stars , the bridal gems of night , Are purer , lovelier than they seem ; Filled from the inner fountain of deep light , They pour down Heaven's own beam ; Clear , sparkling , from their throne of glorious blue ...
... dream . And these keen stars , the bridal gems of night , Are purer , lovelier than they seem ; Filled from the inner fountain of deep light , They pour down Heaven's own beam ; Clear , sparkling , from their throne of glorious blue ...
Página 35
... dream . And in the hush of rest they bring , ' Tis easy now to see How lovely and how sweet a pass The hour of death may be . To close the eye , and close the car , Wrapped in a trance of bliss , And gently dream , in loving arms To ...
... dream . And in the hush of rest they bring , ' Tis easy now to see How lovely and how sweet a pass The hour of death may be . To close the eye , and close the car , Wrapped in a trance of bliss , And gently dream , in loving arms To ...
Página 36
... dream . HEAVEN NEAR . Он , Heaven is nearer than mortals think , When they look with a trembling dread At the misty future , that stretches on From the silent home of the dead . " Tis no lone isle on a boundless main , No brilliant ...
... dream . HEAVEN NEAR . Он , Heaven is nearer than mortals think , When they look with a trembling dread At the misty future , that stretches on From the silent home of the dead . " Tis no lone isle on a boundless main , No brilliant ...
Página 40
... dream life's toil is done ? Oh tell me , do they there forget what here hath made them blest ? Nor sigh again for home and friends , in the City called Rest ? Oh , little birds , fly east again ; oh , little birds , fly west ; Ye have ...
... dream life's toil is done ? Oh tell me , do they there forget what here hath made them blest ? Nor sigh again for home and friends , in the City called Rest ? Oh , little birds , fly east again ; oh , little birds , fly west ; Ye have ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Adam of St angel art thou Ave Maris Stella beauty blessed blest bliss breast breath bright brow calm celestial cherub band Christ clouds crown dark dead dear Death deep doth dreams dust dust to dust dwell earth earthly eternal evermore eyes fade fair faith fear flowers forever gates George Wither glad glorious glory golden grave grief HALLOWED GROUND hand hath HAUNTED PALACE hear heart Heaven heavenly holy hope hour immortal Jean Ingelow Jesus land life's light little longer living look Lord morning mortal mourn Nearer never night o'er pale Paul Gerhardt peace prayer rest river round saints Saviour seraph shadows shalt shining shore sighs silent sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stars stream sweet tears tempests thee thine Thou art thought throne toil tomb voice wait watch weary weep wings
Pasajes populares
Página 267 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lulled with sounds of sweetest melody?
Página 265 - 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 plant ; And all for love and nothing for reward : Oh why should heavenly God to men have such regard) THE SEASONS.
Página 434 - All, all are goue, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man ; Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly ; Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces. I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful schooldays — All, all are gone, the .old familiar faces.
Página 431 - In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace — Radiant palace — reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion, It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago...
Página 107 - FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon ; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you, or anything. We die As your hours do, and dry Away, Like to the summer's rain ; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Página 393 - O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight — Where are those dreamers now? One 'midst the forest of the west, By a dark stream is laid — The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
Página 300 - E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me ; Still all my song shall be, — Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee...
Página 435 - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I loved a love once, fairest among women ; Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her — All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man; Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly; Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.