Faith Gartney's girlhood, by the author of 'The Gayworthys'.

Első borító
Ward, Lock, and Tyler, 1872 - 254 oldal

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78. oldal - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, •An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
124. oldal - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet...
11. oldal - Rouse to some work of high and holy love, And thou an angel's happiness shalt know, — Shalt bless the earth while in the world above, The good begun by thee shall onward flow In many a branching stream, and wider grow ; The seed that in these few and fleeting hours, Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, Shall deck thy grave, with amaranthine flowers, And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers.
52. oldal - Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, For younger fellow-workers of the soil To wear for amulets. So others shall Take patience, labour, to their heart and hand, From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer, And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower with a brimming cup may stand, And share its dew-drop with another near.
203. oldal - Head which was crucified is the Head of all power, and has for His Head the Father ; for the Head of the man is Christ, and the Head of Christ is God.
87. oldal - A servant with this clause makes drudgery divine; who sweeps a room, as for thy laws, makes that and the action fine.
40. oldal - Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is, in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed today, to be put back tomorrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
65. oldal - Oh, leave these jargons, and go your way straight to God's work, in simplicity and singleness of...
196. oldal - And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness, — Round our restlessness, His rest.
120. oldal - There lives and sings a little lonely brook : Liveth and singeth in the dreary pines, Yet creepeth on to where the daylight shines. Pure from their heaven, in mountain chalice caught, It drinks the rains, as drinks the soul her thought ; And down dim hollows where it winds along, Pours its life-burden of unlistened song.

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