Life Thoughts from Pulpits and from Poets

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A. I. Holmes, 1871 - 348 Seiten
 

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Seite 69 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Seite 291 - And gathered them out of the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south. They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way : they found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them. Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses.
Seite 18 - Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest. For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled ; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build.
Seite 24 - How blest the righteous when he dies ! When sinks a weary soul to rest ! How mildly beam the closing eyes ! How gently heaves the expiring breast ! 2 So fades a summer cloud away ; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ; So gently shuts the eye of day ; So dies a wave along the shore.
Seite 292 - Hide not thy face far from me; put not thy servant away in anger: thou hast been my help; leave me not, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation.
Seite 313 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, • •*" •, That Life is ever lord of Death, ^ j^* And Love can never lose its own!
Seite 292 - For, lo, the wicked bend their bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may privily shoot at the upright in heart. 3 If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
Seite 91 - And Pharaoh's daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.
Seite 289 - The highest hopes we cherish here, How fast they tire and faint ; How many a spot defiles the robe That wraps an earthly saint...
Seite 159 - 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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