Lays of the pious minstrel, selections by J.B.H.Simpkin, Marshall & Company, 1862 - 348 من الصفحات |
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النتائج 1-5 من 35
الصفحة 20
... the moan or sigh . REST FOR THE WEARY IN HEAVEN . TELL me , my secret soul , Oh tell me , hope and faith , Is there no resting place From sorrow , sin , and death ? Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blest 20 20 LAYS OF.
... the moan or sigh . REST FOR THE WEARY IN HEAVEN . TELL me , my secret soul , Oh tell me , hope and faith , Is there no resting place From sorrow , sin , and death ? Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blest 20 20 LAYS OF.
الصفحة 21
Lays John Bawtree Harvey. Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blest Where grief may find a balm , And weariness a rest ? Faith , hope , and love , best boons to mortals given , Waved their bright wings , and whispered " YES , IN ...
Lays John Bawtree Harvey. Is there no happy spot Where mortals may be blest Where grief may find a balm , And weariness a rest ? Faith , hope , and love , best boons to mortals given , Waved their bright wings , and whispered " YES , IN ...
الصفحة 26
... blest ? From whom hath sorrow fled ? Who share such deep , unbroken rest Where all things toil ? The dead ! The holy dead . Why weep ye so Above yon sable bier ? Thrice blessed ! they have done with woe ; The living claim the tear . Go ...
... blest ? From whom hath sorrow fled ? Who share such deep , unbroken rest Where all things toil ? The dead ! The holy dead . Why weep ye so Above yon sable bier ? Thrice blessed ! they have done with woe ; The living claim the tear . Go ...
الصفحة 27
... blest ! For spirits round the Eternal Throne How vain the tears we shed ! They are the living , they alone , Whom thus we call the dead . SONG IN THE DESERT . Lyte . FAR from my heavenly home , Far from my Father's breast , Fainting I ...
... blest ! For spirits round the Eternal Throne How vain the tears we shed ! They are the living , they alone , Whom thus we call the dead . SONG IN THE DESERT . Lyte . FAR from my heavenly home , Far from my Father's breast , Fainting I ...
الصفحة 40
... in that home . I see the city of the blest on high , With the freed spirit's ken . I come - I come ! Ye calling voices ! catch my heart's reply : Home - home ! I'm going home ! ADORATION . Lard Glenelg . O WORSHIP the King , 40 LAYS OF.
... in that home . I see the city of the blest on high , With the freed spirit's ken . I come - I come ! Ye calling voices ! catch my heart's reply : Home - home ! I'm going home ! ADORATION . Lard Glenelg . O WORSHIP the King , 40 LAYS OF.
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
angels beauty beneath Bernard Barton blessed blest bliss bloom breast breath bright brow calm child clouds dark dead dear death deep divine doth dust earth eternal fair faith Father fear flowers friends gaze gentle glad band gloom glorious glory grace grave grey east grief hand hath hear heart heaven Heaven's gate heavenly holy hope hour hymn infant Jesus life's light live lonely look Lord mercy morning mother mother's love mountain mourn myrrh neath night o'er pain peace pilgrim poison'd praise prayer rest rill rose Sabbath saints Saviour seraphs shine sigh Sigourney sing skies sleep slumber smile solemn song sorrow soul spirit star star of Bethlehem storm sweet tears tempest thee There's a home thine thou art Thou hast thought throne toil trembling Twas Twill voice wave weary weep wild William Wordsworth winds wings word
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 283 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
الصفحة 57 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll, When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! O, on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away!
الصفحة 266 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
الصفحة 321 - Thou art, O God, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
الصفحة 162 - And there lay the rider, distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail...
الصفحة 253 - Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, ** Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, Paul should himself direct me. I would trace His master-strokes, and draw from his design. I would express him simple, grave, sincere; In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, ** And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste, And natural in gesture ; much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, ** And tender in...
الصفحة 99 - How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.
الصفحة 59 - SOMETIMES a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing in his wings; When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again, A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain.
الصفحة 75 - So Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.
الصفحة 264 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !