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Seite 196 - Our midnight is thy smile withdrawn; Our noontide is thy gracious dawn; Our rainbow arch thy mercy's sign; All, save the clouds of sin, are thine!
Seite 197 - O Lord and Master of us all! Whate'er our name or sign, We own thy sway, we hear thy call, We test our lives by thine.
Seite 198 - He came sweet influence to impart, A gracious, willing Guest, While He can find one humble heart Wherein to rest. And His that gentle voice we hear, Soft as the breath of even, That checks each fault, that calms each fear, And speaks of heaven.
Seite 189 - And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Seite 204 - Acadia, and still current there, — the legend of a girl who, in the dispersion of the Acadians, was separated from her lover, and passed her life in waiting and seeking for him, and only found him dying in a hospital when both were old.
Seite 191 - And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish, That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows.
Seite 183 - All the characters were real," writes the poet's brother and biographer, " but they were not really at the Sudbury Inn. The Poet was TW Parsons, the translator of Dante ; the Sicilian, Luigi Monti ; the Theologian, Professor Treadwell, of Harvard ; the Student, Henry Ware Wales. Parsons, Monti, and Treadwell were in the habit of spending the summer months at the Sudbury Inn. On this very slender thread of fact the fiction is woven.
Seite 185 - In the maples' breezy shade, Than the book-stall old and gray. Here are precious gems of thought That were quarried long ago, Some in vellum bound, and wrought With letters and lines of gold; Here are curious rows of "calf...