Echoes of many voices from many lands, by A.F.1865 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 16 találatból.
1. oldal
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
38. oldal
... tender , from my paths are gone ! Oh ! guide me with thy hand , If thou dost know that land , For I am burthened with oppressive care , And I am weak , and fearful with despair ! Where is it ? tell me where ? Thou that art kind and ...
... tender , from my paths are gone ! Oh ! guide me with thy hand , If thou dost know that land , For I am burthened with oppressive care , And I am weak , and fearful with despair ! Where is it ? tell me where ? Thou that art kind and ...
43. oldal
... over Salem's towers A golden lustre gleams , And lovingly , and lingeringly The Sun prolongs his beams . He looks as on some work undone For which the time hath passed , So tender is his glance and mild , It seems FROM MANY LANDS . 43.
... over Salem's towers A golden lustre gleams , And lovingly , and lingeringly The Sun prolongs his beams . He looks as on some work undone For which the time hath passed , So tender is his glance and mild , It seems FROM MANY LANDS . 43.
44. oldal
Echoes A F. So tender is his glance and mild , It seems to be his last . But a brighter Sun is looking on , More earnest is His eye , For thunder - clouds will veil Him soon And darken all the sky . O'er Sion still He bends , as loath ...
Echoes A F. So tender is his glance and mild , It seems to be his last . But a brighter Sun is looking on , More earnest is His eye , For thunder - clouds will veil Him soon And darken all the sky . O'er Sion still He bends , as loath ...
80. oldal
... her fair young head When thou wert gone , in silent sorrow dying . Brother , true friend ! the tender and the brave ! She pined to share thy grave . Fame was thy gift from others ; but for her 80 ECHOES OF MANY VOICES.
... her fair young head When thou wert gone , in silent sorrow dying . Brother , true friend ! the tender and the brave ! She pined to share thy grave . Fame was thy gift from others ; but for her 80 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.