Thoughts on wheels. The climbing boy's soliloquies. Songs of Zion, being imitations of the Psalms. Narratives. Tributary poems. Miscellaneous poems

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Sorin & Ball, 1845

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第 75 頁 - HAIL to the Lord's Anointed, Great David's greater Son ; Hail, in the time appointed, His reign on earth begun ; He comes to break oppression, To set the captive free, To take away transgression, And rule in equity.
第 421 頁 - So when my latest breath Shall rend the veil in twain, By death I shall escape from death, And life eternal gain. Knowing as I am known, How shall I love that word, And oft repeat before the throne,
第 345 頁 - I gave him all ; he blessed it, brake, And ate; but gave me part again; Mine was an angel's portion then; For, while I fed with eager haste, That crust was manna to my taste.
第 235 頁 - Once, in the flight of ages past, There lived a man — and who was he ? Mortal, howe'er thy lot be cast, That man resembled thee.
第 235 頁 - Alternate triumphed in his breast; His bliss and woe, a smile, a tear ! Oblivion hides the rest. The bounding pulse, the languid limb, The changing spirits' rise and fall, We know that these were felt by him, For these are felt by all.
第 363 頁 - THE bird that soars on highest wing Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; And she that doth most sweetly sing Sings in the shade when all things rest : — In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility. 2 When Mary chose the better part, She meekly sat at Jesus...
第 347 頁 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest.
第 65 頁 - Confesses he has none. 428. 7s. M. 6 1. The Soul panting for God. 1 As the hart, with eager looks, Panteth for the water-brooks, So my soul, athirst for thee, Pants the living God to see ; When, O when, with filial fear, Lord, shall I to thee draw near ? 2 Why art thou cast down, my soul ? God, thy God, shall make thee whole : Why art thou disquieted ? God shall lift thy fallen head, And his countenance benign Be the saving health of thine.
第 342 頁 - Thrice welcome, little English flower! My mother-country's white and red, In rose or lily, till this hour, Never to me such beauty spread: Transplanted from thine island-bed, A treasure in a grain of earth, Strange as a spirit from the dead, Thine embryo sprang to birth.
第 76 頁 - And love, joy, hope, like flowers, Spring in His path to birth : Before Him, on the mountains, Shall peace, the herald, go, And righteousness, in fountains, From hill to valley flow.

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