Echoes of many voices from many lands, by A.F.1865 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 35 találatból.
x. oldal
... hand XXXVII . Trust XXXVIII . There's not a heath , however XXXIX . The cruse that faileth not XL . Not now . • · Bonar Dale Sacred Songs Williams . 46 49 • 53 54 Reminiscences of Thought } 56 and Feeling First Lieutenant's Story 56 ...
... hand XXXVII . Trust XXXVIII . There's not a heath , however XXXIX . The cruse that faileth not XL . Not now . • · Bonar Dale Sacred Songs Williams . 46 49 • 53 54 Reminiscences of Thought } 56 and Feeling First Lieutenant's Story 56 ...
x. oldal
... hand XXXVII . Trust . Bonar Dale · · 46 49 Sacred Songs 53 Williams . { Reminiscences of Thought } and Feeling 54 56 First Lieutenant's Story 56 XXXVIII . There's not a heath , however rude XXXIX . The cruse that faileth not XL . Not ...
... hand XXXVII . Trust . Bonar Dale · · 46 49 Sacred Songs 53 Williams . { Reminiscences of Thought } and Feeling 54 56 First Lieutenant's Story 56 XXXVIII . There's not a heath , however rude XXXIX . The cruse that faileth not XL . Not ...
6. oldal
... hands— Since I stood weak and weary , On the shore of a troubled sea , And my youth and its hopes went drifting Down the ebb - tide dark and dree- Counting the years on my fingers And looking along the shore , Back to the spot where we ...
... hands— Since I stood weak and weary , On the shore of a troubled sea , And my youth and its hopes went drifting Down the ebb - tide dark and dree- Counting the years on my fingers And looking along the shore , Back to the spot where we ...
7. oldal
... hands . Wavering and slow at their outstart , Oft halting and turning back , Alone in the mournful journey , Are the first steps on the track ; Looking away through the sea - mists- Not at the stumbling feet , Are the tear - blind eyes ...
... hands . Wavering and slow at their outstart , Oft halting and turning back , Alone in the mournful journey , Are the first steps on the track ; Looking away through the sea - mists- Not at the stumbling feet , Are the tear - blind eyes ...
10. oldal
... hand.— Sitting alone by my fireside , Alone this October night , Tracing a backward journey By memory's pale ... hands , Till bright in the far - off distance , Like ΙΟ ECHOES OF MANY VOICES.
... hand.— Sitting alone by my fireside , Alone this October night , Tracing a backward journey By memory's pale ... hands , Till bright in the far - off distance , Like ΙΟ ECHOES OF MANY VOICES.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Archbishop of Dublin 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 dreams dreary dwell earth earthly earthly joy eternal eyes fade faith Father fear feel flowers frae garden of Gethsemane giveth His beloved glorious gone grace grief hand happy hath heaven heavenly hero's heart holy hope hour Jesus Jesus of Nazareth life's light live lonely look Lord Lyre MADAME GUYON mother night o'er o'er thy pain passed peace pray Saviour shine sighs smile soothes 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 thy rest 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.