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Стр. 316 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity...
Стр. 318 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy soul's immensity ; Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal Mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Стр. 366 - Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster.
Стр. 318 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Стр. 316 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Стр. 54 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Стр. 316 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Стр. 323 - Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge!
Стр. 266 - Christ, art all I want, More than all in thee I find ! Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind ; Just and holy is thy name, I am all unrighteousness ; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.