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ages angels Art thou bear beautiful beloved blessed blest born breath bright Christ Christian Church collection coming Cross crown dark dawn dead dear death deep dost earth earthly eternal eyes face fair faith fall Father fear feet flowers give glorious glory God's golden grace grave hand happy hast hath hear heart Heaven heavenly Holy hope hour hymns JERUSALEM Jesus keep King light live look Lord lost morning Mother nature never night o'er once passed peace poem praise prayer pure raise rest RETURN rise round saints Saviour Schmolze sight silent sing sins sleep song sorrow soul spirit stand star SUNDAY sweet tears Thee Thine things Thou thought throne true turn voice weary wondrous worship
Стр. 129 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead...
Стр. 163 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone.
Стр. 213 - From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain. 2 What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's. isle ; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown : The heathen in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone.
Стр. 61 - Hath He marks to lead me to Him, If He be my Guide ? " In His Feet and Hands are Wound-prints. And His Side.
Стр. 149 - And still where many a garden flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Стр. 145 - The indorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blood ; The couch of time ; care's balm and bay ; The week were dark, but for thy light. Thy torch doth show the way.
Стр. 130 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child ; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face.
Стр. 107 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart, to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — "He giveth His beloved sleep.
Стр. 75 - Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, On the cross of suffering bought...