The Kingdom of Home: Homely Poems for Home Lovers

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Arthur Gilman
D. Lothrop, 1882 - American poetry - 249 pages

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Page 57 - An honest man's the noblest work of God.' And certes in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind: What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined!
Page 242 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband our life's taper at the close And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
Page 57 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,— How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He who, bore in heaven the second name Had not on earth whereon to lay His head...
Page 19 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Page 56 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare; .Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And ' Let us worship God !* he says, with solemn air.
Page 218 - GENTLE Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child, Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to thee.
Page 112 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Page 105 - For woman is not undevelopt man, . But diverse : could we make her as the man, Sweet Love were slain: his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow; The man be more of woman, she of man...
Page 57 - No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear ; While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart...
Page 246 - She faded midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band. And parted thus they rest, who played Beneath the same green tree ; Whose voices mingled as they prayed Around one parent knee...

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