Sabbath Recreations: Or, Select Poetry of a Religious Kind |
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Page vii
... . 150 The Thunder - Storm , translated from the Russian of Dmitriev , The Summit of Mount Sinai , Eternal Union of Friends , by J. Bowring . 151 Montgomery . 152 . Byron . 153 " Thou hast made Summer and Win- Hindoo Hymn - vii.
... . 150 The Thunder - Storm , translated from the Russian of Dmitriev , The Summit of Mount Sinai , Eternal Union of Friends , by J. Bowring . 151 Montgomery . 152 . Byron . 153 " Thou hast made Summer and Win- Hindoo Hymn - vii.
Page ix
... Storm and the Whirlwind , Peace ,. The Death of the Virtuous , Love to Christ , Oriental Illustration of a Christian Pre- cept , Upon the Death of a Wife , Silent Worship , ‡ Heaven , Herbert Knowles . 220 Lord Palmerston . 221 J. J. ...
... Storm and the Whirlwind , Peace ,. The Death of the Virtuous , Love to Christ , Oriental Illustration of a Christian Pre- cept , Upon the Death of a Wife , Silent Worship , ‡ Heaven , Herbert Knowles . 220 Lord Palmerston . 221 J. J. ...
Page 21
... storm , Whether upon the Northern pines It rocks its cloud - wrapt form ; Or , conquering , tramps right royally The hollow - sounding seas , Or holds high carnival among The crashing mountain trees ! His earthquakes shake the eternal ...
... storm , Whether upon the Northern pines It rocks its cloud - wrapt form ; Or , conquering , tramps right royally The hollow - sounding seas , Or holds high carnival among The crashing mountain trees ! His earthquakes shake the eternal ...
Page 39
... like the radiant bow , His covenant of peace to show , Athwart the breaking storm to glow , Then vanish into heaven . O Church ! to whom that youth was dear , The angel of thy mercies here , Behold the path he trod , " A milky way 39.
... like the radiant bow , His covenant of peace to show , Athwart the breaking storm to glow , Then vanish into heaven . O Church ! to whom that youth was dear , The angel of thy mercies here , Behold the path he trod , " A milky way 39.
Page 41
... , unsightly root ! Yet from the blight of winter's storm It hides secure the precious root . The careless eye can find no grace , No beauty 4 * 41 Sonnet on Sunday Morning, Dr Leyden The Lily, an emblem of Christian Hope, Mrs Tighe.
... , unsightly root ! Yet from the blight of winter's storm It hides secure the precious root . The careless eye can find no grace , No beauty 4 * 41 Sonnet on Sunday Morning, Dr Leyden The Lily, an emblem of Christian Hope, Mrs Tighe.
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Sabbath Recreations, Or, Select Poetry of a Religious Kind: Chiefly Taken ... John Pierpont,Emily Taylor No preview available - 2013 |
Common terms and phrases
amaranthine angels beams beauty beneath Bernard Barton bids bless bless'd bliss bloom bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow Caroline Fry child clouds cold dark dead death DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB divine dust earth earthly Edmeston Emily Taylor eternal fade fair Father fear feel fire flowers gloom glorious glory glow grace grave grief harp hath heart heaven heavenly Herbert Knowles holy hope hopes and fears hour HYMN leaves light lonely Lord lyre mighty morn mortal Mother's Love mourn night o'er pale peace praise prayer rest rill rise roll rose round Sabbath sacred Savior scene shade shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul sphere spirit spring Star of Bethlehem stars storm stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne tomb tread vale voice wakes wandering wave weep wind wings youth
Popular passages
Page 207 - DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ. I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the hrute. 0 solitude! where are the charms
Page 274 - of light, Angels ! for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing. Ye in heaven! On earth, join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end! Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, Sure pledge of day, that
Page 133 - in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars in the sea When the blue ware rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset
Page 188 - gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with a thousand eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine. And every flower the summer wreathes Is born beneath that kindling eye: Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine. THE
Page 205 - the blood of goat, The flesh of rams, I will not prize ; A contrite heart, an humble thought, Are mine accepted sacrifice." FUNERAL HYMN. YE midnight shades, o'er nature spread! Dumb silence of the dreary hour! In honor of the approaching dead, Around your awful terrors pour. Yes, pour around On this pale ground,
Page 163 - roam : But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. So grant me, God, from every care And stain of passion free, Aloft, through virtue's purer air, To hold my course to
Page 188 - vistas into heaven, Those hues that mark the sun's decline, So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine. When night, with wings of stormy gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with a thousand eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
Page 201 - men, And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade, and glen. And now when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home, When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all The
Page 157 - origin divine, God's glorious image—freed from clay, In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, A star of day ! The sun is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky; The soul, immortal as its Sire, SHALL NEVER DIE ! GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES.—A
Page 177 - THE REV. W. MASON. TAKE, holy earth, all that my soul holds dear; Take that best gift, which Heaven so lately gave. To Bristol's fount I bore, with trembling care, Her faded form—she how'd to taste the wave, And died ! Does youth, does beauty read the line ? Does sympathetic fear their breast alarm ? Speak, dead