The Brudenells of Brude

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Clarke, 1878 - 542 Seiten

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Seite 283 - Give to the winds thy fears ; Hope, and be undismayed; God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears, God shall lift up thy head. Through waves and clouds and storms He gently clears thy way; Wait thou His time, so shall this night Soon end in joyous day.
Seite 245 - And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity; so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell.
Seite 316 - Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies: Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!
Seite 188 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Seite 403 - The Sundays of man's life, Threaded together on time's string, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternal glorious King. On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope ; Blessings are plentiful and rife — More plentiful than hope.
Seite 316 - ABIDE with me ; fast falls the eventide ; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Seite 276 - The GOD that rules on high, And thunders when He please, That rides upon the stormy sky, And manages the seas, This awful GOD is ours, Our FATHER and our love ; He shall send down His heavenly powers. To carry us above.
Seite 317 - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Seite 327 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...

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