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ancient arms bear beauty beneath blessed blood breast breath bright brow cloud dark dead death deep doth dread dreams dwell e'en earth eternal face fair faith fall father fear flowers gaze glorious glory glow gone grave grief hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour Italy land leaves light live lonely look Lord meet midst mighty mortal never night Note o'er once pale passed past peace proud rest rise rocks rose round scene seemed shade shrine silent sleep smile soft song soul sound speak spirit stars step stood stream strong sweet swell sword tears tell thee thine things thou thought tomb tone turn voice wave weep wild wind young youth
Strona 9 - And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.
Strona 285 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
Strona 278 - Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale? They have one season — all are ours, to die!
Strona 27 - Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransomed nature, The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign ! 727 Psalm 60.
Strona 18 - Brightest and best of the sons of the morning ! Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid ! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid ! <#irst Sunbag after %ip|rang.— No.
Strona 304 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ; The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Strona 18 - His head with the beasts of the stall ; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all ! 3.
Strona 268 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.