Lays for the Sabbath: a collection of religious poetry

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Crosby and Nichols, 1850 - 288 頁
 

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第 188 頁 - THOU art, O God, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
第 283 頁 - When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Will rising wonders sing.
第 87 頁 - Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best • His state Is kingly. Thousands at His bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest : They also serve who only stand and wait.
第 138 頁 - Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew: Nor yet for the ravage of Winter I mourn ; Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save. But when shall Spring visit the mouldering urn? O, when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?
第 281 頁 - The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise, whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
第 173 頁 - 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...
第 276 頁 - In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
第 279 頁 - These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of thee.
第 205 頁 - But present still, though now unseen, When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And oh, when stoops on Judah's path In shade and storm the frequent night, Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light! 101 Our harps we left by Babel's...
第 36 頁 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set -but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...

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