The shower of pearls, a collection of poetry, original and selected, for schools, by C. PhillipsSimpkin, Marshall and Company, 1855 - 155 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة vii
... be the last composed by Milton 72 74 75 77 - 78 78 - 80 81 82 84 - 87 92 - 96 100 - 101 101 · 102 108 109 109 111 114 - 116 116 117 118 119 120 122 124 126 126 - 127 129 - 133 VIII CONTENTS . PAGE Prayer 135 The Three Sons 137.
... be the last composed by Milton 72 74 75 77 - 78 78 - 80 81 82 84 - 87 92 - 96 100 - 101 101 · 102 108 109 109 111 114 - 116 116 117 118 119 120 122 124 126 126 - 127 129 - 133 VIII CONTENTS . PAGE Prayer 135 The Three Sons 137.
الصفحة viii
... Prayer at a Girls ' School 152 Mary 154 Prayer 155 The Mother who has a Child at Sea 156 Lines 158 Sunday - 159 Heaven 161 From the Persian 162 Forest Worship Lead , Kindly Light The Ministry of Angels For my Brother's Ordination Sin ...
... Prayer at a Girls ' School 152 Mary 154 Prayer 155 The Mother who has a Child at Sea 156 Lines 158 Sunday - 159 Heaven 161 From the Persian 162 Forest Worship Lead , Kindly Light The Ministry of Angels For my Brother's Ordination Sin ...
الصفحة 11
... sparkling eye and rosy cheek . And on Sunday Mary goes , Neatly dressed in decent clothes , Says her prayers ( a constant rule ) And hastens to the Sunday School . Oh , how good should we be found , Who 11 The English Girl -
... sparkling eye and rosy cheek . And on Sunday Mary goes , Neatly dressed in decent clothes , Says her prayers ( a constant rule ) And hastens to the Sunday School . Oh , how good should we be found , Who 11 The English Girl -
الصفحة 34
... more and more . Within , without , above , around , I'll listen for the holy sound ; And still my ardent prayer shall be , 66 Speak ; for thy servant heareth thee . " MISS MARTINEAU . STARS . STARS , that on your wondrous way Travel 34.
... more and more . Within , without , above , around , I'll listen for the holy sound ; And still my ardent prayer shall be , 66 Speak ; for thy servant heareth thee . " MISS MARTINEAU . STARS . STARS , that on your wondrous way Travel 34.
الصفحة 36
... Let it rise in fervent prayer ; And beseech the God of Heaven , To receive your spirit there , Like a living star to blaze Ever to your Saviour's praise . " JANE TAYLOR . HARVEST - FIELD FLOWERS . COME down into the harvest 36.
... Let it rise in fervent prayer ; And beseech the God of Heaven , To receive your spirit there , Like a living star to blaze Ever to your Saviour's praise . " JANE TAYLOR . HARVEST - FIELD FLOWERS . COME down into the harvest 36.
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
angel ANON Asshur beautiful beneath bird bitter woe Hear bless bless'd breast breath bright brow cheek child at sea cry Lama Sabacthani dark dear death DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB doth E'en earth EDMESTON Excelsior fair fear flowers fragrant gentle glad song Go when thy green grief hand happy hast thou Hear spirit voices heart heaven Heaven's gate heavenly holy inly cry Lama inly know Seasons JANE TAYLOR land little children LONGFELLOW Lord love and dreams loves me best morning mother murmur ne'er night Overcome sense pain pass'd Pompey's Pillar pray prayer red planet Mars replied Romulus and Remus Samian wine Saviour Seasons of bitter shine Shylock silent sing skies smile snow song sorrow soul Speak gently spirit voices low spring Star of Bethlehem summer sweet tear tell tempest thee thine thou hast thought tree weep wind wings woe Hear spirit
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 83 - His hair is crisp and black and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow : You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge,...
الصفحة 112 - With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.
الصفحة 92 - THE isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, — • Where grew the arts of war and peace,— Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set...
الصفحة 126 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, ' Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ?
الصفحة 145 - New mercies, each returning day, Hover around us while we pray ; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice.
الصفحة 93 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
الصفحة 65 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
الصفحة 45 - Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; "Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
الصفحة 64 - Not there, not there, my child !" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange, bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ?" '. Not there, not there, my child...
الصفحة 51 - The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form.