Echoes of many voices from many lands, by A.F.Macmillan and Company, 1865 - 216 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 21 találatból.
2. oldal
... poco di viver che ni ' avanza— Ed al morir , degni esser tua man presta , Tu sai ben che in altrui non ho speranza . PETRARCA . III . SUBMISSION . BUT the faint soul must bear 2 ECHOES OF MANY VOICES E B Browning Petrarca.
... poco di viver che ni ' avanza— Ed al morir , degni esser tua man presta , Tu sai ben che in altrui non ho speranza . PETRARCA . III . SUBMISSION . BUT the faint soul must bear 2 ECHOES OF MANY VOICES E B Browning Petrarca.
3. oldal
... bear , the spirit fill , Fleeing from the dark phantoms of unrest Into the arms of Mercy , calmly blest , " Do with me what Thou wilt , I will lie still . " J. WILLIAMS . Thoughts in Past Years . IV . " THE WITHERED FLOWER . " THE ...
... bear , the spirit fill , Fleeing from the dark phantoms of unrest Into the arms of Mercy , calmly blest , " Do with me what Thou wilt , I will lie still . " J. WILLIAMS . Thoughts in Past Years . IV . " THE WITHERED FLOWER . " THE ...
26. oldal
... The Cheltenham Chronicle . XIX . UNCHANGED within , to see all changed with- out , Is a sad lot , and hard to bear , no doubt ; Yet why at others ' wanings shouldst thou fret ? 26 ECHOES OF MANY VOICES Cheltenham Chronicle Coleridge.
... The Cheltenham Chronicle . XIX . UNCHANGED within , to see all changed with- out , Is a sad lot , and hard to bear , no doubt ; Yet why at others ' wanings shouldst thou fret ? 26 ECHOES OF MANY VOICES Cheltenham Chronicle Coleridge.
38. oldal
... me where ? Friend , thou must trust in Him who trod before The desolate paths of life : Must bear with meekness , as He meekly bore , Sorrow , and pain , and strife ! Think how the Son of God Those thorny paths hath 38 ECHOES OF MANY ...
... me where ? Friend , thou must trust in Him who trod before The desolate paths of life : Must bear with meekness , as He meekly bore , Sorrow , and pain , and strife ! Think how the Son of God Those thorny paths hath 38 ECHOES OF MANY ...
53. oldal
... him ; Oh ! we little know What may be mingled in our cup of woe ! The very grief we said we could not bear , That grief may be our heaven - allotted share : What we have suffered we look back and tell , FROM MANY LANDS . 53.
... him ; Oh ! we little know What may be mingled in our cup of woe ! The very grief we said we could not bear , That grief may be our heaven - allotted share : What we have suffered we look back and tell , FROM MANY LANDS . 53.
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Archbishop of Dublin bear beloved sleep beneath BLAISE PASCAL blessed blessed band blest bliss breast bright brother brow calm cheer child Christ compagno cross dark Dean of Canterbury dear death deep doth dreary dust dwell earth earthly eternal eyes fade faith Father fear feel flowers frae friends garden of Gethsemane giveth His beloved gloom glorious gone grace grave grief hand happy Hast thou hath heaven heavenly Heir of Redclyffe hero's heart holy hope hour Jesus life's light little hour live lonely look Lord MADAME GUYON mother mournful night pain passed peace pray Psalms Saviour shine sighs smile soothe sorrow soul spirit stars sunny height sweet T. W. ROBERTSON tears tell tender thee thine things Thou art thou canst Thou hast thoughts thy love thy prayer to-morrow trust truth unto voice watch way-marks weary weep wither words youth
Népszerű szakaszok
92. oldal - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
155. oldal - And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will show to you to-day : for the Egyptians whom ye have seen to-day, ye shall see them again no more for ever. The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.
190. oldal - And a feeling of sadness conies o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
191. oldal - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who, through long days of labor. And nights devoid of ease. Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
129. oldal - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows ?He giveth His beloved, sleep.
23. oldal - FROM every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat : 'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat. 2. There is a place where Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads, — A place than all besides more sweet : It is the blood-bought mercy-seat.
v. oldal - Au. are not taken ! there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring. And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind. But if it were not so — if I could find No love in all the world for comforting. Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Where
177. oldal - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
65. oldal - And who was changed, and who was dead ; And all that fills the hearts of friends, When first they feel, with secret pain, their lives thenceforth have separate ends, And never can be one again ; The first slight swerving of the heart, That words are powerless to express, And leave it still unsaid in part, Or say it in too great excess. The very tones in which we spake Had something strange, I could but mark ; The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
69. oldal - THEY tell us of an Indian tree, Which, howsoe'er the sun and sky May tempt its boughs to wander free, And shoot, and blossom, wide and high, Far better loves to bend its arms Downward again to that dear earth, From which the life, that fills and warms Its grateful being, first had birth. 'Tis thus, though woo'd by flattering friends, And fed with fame (if fame it be) This heart, my own dear mother, bends, With love's true instinct, back to thee ! LOVE AND HYMEN.