Memorial Meeting Held at May Memorial Church, Jan. 9, 1890

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1890 - Всего страниц: 94

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Стр. 17 - That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it.
Стр. 73 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Стр. 19 - So, let him wait God's instant men call years ; Meantime hold hard by truth and his great soul, Do out the duty ! Through such souls alone God stooping shows sufficient of His light For us i
Стр. 15 - Like plants in mines which never saw the sun, But dream of him, and guess where he may be, And do their best to climb and get to him.
Стр. 15 - Spite of this flesh to-day I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole ! " As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry, "All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now than flesh helps soul...
Стр. 59 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake. No, at noonday in the bustle of man's work-time Greet the unseen with a cheer! Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, "Strive and thrive!" cry "Speed, — fight on, fare ever There as here!
Стр. 53 - Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England. Macb. Fled to England ? Len. Ay, my good lord. Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it : from this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.
Стр. 61 - Of grace, some splendor once thy very thought, Some benediction anciently thy smile : — Never conclude, but raising hand and head Thither where eyes, that cannot reach, yet yearn For all hope, all sustainment, all reward, Their utmost up and on, — so blessing back In those thy realms of help, that heaven thy home, Some whiteness which, I judge, thy face makes proud, Some wanness where, I think, thy foot may fall!
Стр. 18 - Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All men ignored in me, This I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
Стр. 61 - Never may I commence my song, my due To God who best taught song by gift of thee, Except with bent head and beseeching hand — That still, despite the distance and the dark, What was, again may be ; some interchange Of grace, some splendour once thy very thought, Some benediction anciently thy smile...

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