Silex Scintillans, &c: Sacred Poems and Pious Ejaculations

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Bell and Daldy, 1858 - Всего страниц: 247
 

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Стр. 12 - Yet the Lord will command his lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.
Стр. 112 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
Стр. 135 - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days; » My days, which are at best but dull and hoary.
Стр. 170 - Nahor, Haran, Abram, Lot, The youthful world's gray fathers in one knot, Did with intentive looks watch every hour For thy new light, and trembled at each shower...
Стр. 135 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.
Стр. 50 - But ah ! my soul with too much stay Is drunk, and staggers in the way ! Some...
Стр. 16 - THIS series is intended to supply for the use of Schools and Students cheap and accurate editions of the Classics, which shall be superior in mechanical execution to the small German editions now current in this country, and more convenient in form. The texts of the Bibliotheca Classics, and Grammar School Classics, so far as they have been published, will be adopted.
Стр. 12 - For the grave cannot praise thee, death cannot celebrate thee: They that go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth. The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as I do this day: The father to the children shall make known thy truth.
Стр. 187 - But his own living works did my Lord hold And lodge alone; Where trees and herbs did watch and...
Стр. 209 - False life ! a foil and no more, when Wilt thou be gone ? Thou foul deception of all men That would not have the true come on. Thou art a Moon-like toil; a blinde Self-posing state; A dark contest of waves and winde ; A meer tempestuous debate.

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