angel April beauty beneath bird blessed blest bliss Born at London breath bright Carcassonne Christ Christina Georgina Rossetti cloud cross crown dark dead dear death died at London DIES IRÆ doth dream earth England English writer eternal eyes faint fair Father fear feet flowers Glorious glory God's grace grave grief hand hath hear heart heaven Henry Wadsworth Longfellow hills holy Horatius Bonar hour Jerusalem the Golden Jesus JOHN Born Juxta crucem King Lamb of God land light living Lord morning mortal mourn Nearer never night o'er pain Paradise peace Pierre-Jean de Béranger poem praise prayer rest Robert Herrick rose Scotland shadows shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile Song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet tears thee Theocritus Thine Thou art Thou hast thought Vaterland voice wandering weary weep WILLIAM wind wings York City
الصفحة 3185 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
الصفحة 3450 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
الصفحة 3552 - Abide with me ; fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
الصفحة 3541 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want; More than all in thee I find. Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is thy name; I am all unrighteousness: 30 False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.
الصفحة 3265 - MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
الصفحة 3193 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds: Your heads must come To the cold tomb; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom...
الصفحة 3288 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
الصفحة 3298 - And all their echoes mourn. The Willows, and the Hazel Copses green, Shall now no more be seen, Fanning their joyous Leaves to thy soft lays.
الصفحة 3468 - He that is down needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride; He that is humble, ever shall Have God to be his guide.