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A Child's Book of Religion: For Sunday Schools and Homes
Octavius Brooks Frothingham
Полный просмотр - 1886
angels answered bear beautiful blessed body breath bright bring child clouds comes dark divine duty earth evil eyes face fair faith fall Father fear feel flowers forever friends gentle give given glad glory God's gone hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven heavenly holy hour HYMN Jesus keep kind king land lead leaves light live look Lord mean mind morning mother never night o'er pain pass peace pleasure poor praise pray prayer punishment pure rest reward Ring round seek sing smile song sorrow soul speak Spirit spring stars sweet teach tell tender thank thee thine things thou thought tree true trust truth turn voice wait walk wandering waters weak wings wisdom
Стр. 120 - Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment...
Стр. 122 - For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
Стр. 159 - ADHEM (may his tribe increase !) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord.
Стр. 40 - The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise, whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Стр. 123 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Стр. 41 - There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll ! — For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or Winter rises in the blackening east ; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat...
Стр. 50 - God the life and light of all this wondrous world we see its glow by day its smile by night are but reflections caught from thee •where'er we turn thy glories shine and all things fair and bright are thine when day with farewell beam delays among the opening clouds of even and we can almost think we gaze through golden vistas into heaven...
Стр. 40 - While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. Bleat out afresh, ye hills : ye mossy rocks, Retain the sound : the broad responsive low, Ye valleys, raise ; for the Great Shepherd reigns ; And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night his praise.