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63. oldal - The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were these. "The winds roared, and the rains fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk; no wife to grind his corn.
53. oldal - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as...
53. oldal - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
4. oldal - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
53. oldal - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale ; And nightly, to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth ; While all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all Move round...
3. oldal - HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove! Thou messenger of spring ! Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing. What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year?
15. oldal - GOD might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak-tree, and the cedar-tree, Without a flower at all.
16. oldal - Our outward life requires them not, Then wherefore had they birth ? To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth. To comfort man — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim ; For whoso careth for the flowers, Will much more care for him.

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