Verselets, Latin and English

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John Henry & James Parker, 1863 - 118 oldal
 

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108. oldal - Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling; ' Naked, come to Thee for dress, Helpless, look to Thee for grace; Foul, I to the fountain fly; Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
112. oldal - Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, — Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore.
106. oldal - Can fulfil thy law's demands ; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone ; Thou must save, and thou alone.
106. oldal - Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee ! Let the water and the blood, From Thy riven side which flow'd, Be of sin the double cure, Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
66. oldal - We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears , Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died.
28. oldal - Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England, did adorn. The first, in loftiness of thought surpassed; The next, in majesty; in both the last. The force of Nature could no further go; To make a third, she joined the former two.
22. oldal - West and East, And shapes and hues of Art divine ! All of beauty, all of use, That one fair planet can produce, Brought from under every star, Blown from over every main, And mixt, as life is mixt with pain, The works of peace with works of war.
24. oldal - O ye, the wise who think, the wise who reign, From growing commerce loose her latest chain, And let the fair white-wing'd peacemaker fly To happy havens under all the sky, And mix the seasons and the golden hours ; Till each man find his own in all men's good, And all men work in noble brotherhood...
18. oldal - O silent father of our Kings to be Mourn'd in this golden hour of jubilee, For this, for all, we weep our thanks to thee!
110. oldal - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign, Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers : Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. 3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.

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