The months [an anthology] illustr. by pen and pencil. Ed. by S. Manning (Google eBook)

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Page 40 - Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: Thou greatly enrichest it With the river of God, which is full of water : Thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it.
Page 167 - Close bosom-friend of the maturing Sun ! Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run ; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core...
Page 130 - And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear, nor dark: but it shall be one day which shall be known to the Lord, not day, nor night: but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.
Page 135 - Thou crownest the year with Thy goodness ; And Thy paths drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness : And the little hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with flocks ; The valleys also are covered over with corn ; They shout for joy, they also sing.
Page 76 - Lo! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod;' Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
Page 59 - To the last point of vision, and beyond, Mount, daring warbler ! that love-prompted strain, 'Twixt thee and thine' a never-failing bond, Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain ; Yet mightst thou seem, proud privilege ! to sing All independent of the leafy spring.
Page 25 - From dearth to plenty, and from death to life, Is Nature's progress, when she lectures man In heavenly truth ; evincing, as she makes The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God.
Page 5 - Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves; and when the restless day. Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night his praise.
Page 167 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Page 176 - THOU blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end.

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