The Treasury of Sacred Song: Selected from the English Lyrical Poetry of Four Centuries, with Notes, Explanatory and Biographical

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Clarendon Press, 1889 - 374 páginas
 

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Página 108 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown. And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep.
Página 205 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Página 194 - 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!
Página 34 - SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright — The bridal of the earth and sky ; The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave ' Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Página 195 - They rest not day and night, saying. Holy, holy, [PM holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come" TJTOLY, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee: Holy, holy, holy!
Página 190 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways ; While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry,
Página 185 - The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree ; And seem by Thy sweet bounty made For those who follow Thee.
Página 184 - It can bring with it nothing But he will bear us through : Who gives the lilies clothing Will clothe his people too : Beneath the spreading heavens No creature but is fed ; And he who feeds the ravens Will give his children bread.
Página 128 - LORD, it belongs not to my care, Whether I die or live ; To love and serve Thee is 'my share, And this Thy grace must give.
Página 161 - HARK, the glad sound ! the Saviour comes ! The Saviour promised long ! Let every heart prepare a throne, And every voice a song.

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