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ancient answered arms Basil beautiful behold bell beneath birds blossom breath bride Bruges called changed church close cloud dark dead death deep descended door earth entered Evangeline eyes face fair fall farmer father fear feeling feet fell fire follow forest forever Gabriel gleam golden hand head hear heard heart heaven hope hour labor land laugh leaves light lives looked loud maiden meadows morning never night o'er ocean once passed priest rain rest returning rise river rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadow ships shore side silent singing slowly song soon sorrow soul sound stands stars stood streets strong sweet Take thee thou thought tide tree turned unto village voice waited walk walls wander wave weary wild wind young youth
22. oldal - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
343. oldal - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
126. oldal - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
73. oldal - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
138. oldal - This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
342. oldal - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
304. oldal - Standing before Her father's door, He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair, And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, With the breath of morn and the soft sea air.
137. oldal - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
141. oldal - Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
189. oldal - This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!