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Archbishop of Dublin art thou bear beneath Blaise Pascal blessed blest breast bright brow cheer child Christ CHURCH MILITANT dark Dean of Canterbury dear death deep doeth all things doth dust earth earthly earthly joy eternal eyes fade faith faithless Father fear feel flowers frae garden of Gethsemane gloom glorious glory God's acre gone grace grave grief hand happy hath heart heaven heavenly holy hope hour Jesus Jesus of Nazareth life's light little hour live lonely look Lord Madame Guyon Mercy-Seat mournful Nazareth passeth neath never night pain passed peace pray Saviour shine silent smile soothe sorrow soul spirit stars sweet take thy rest tears tell tender thee thine Thou art thou canst Thou hast thoughts thy love thy prayer to-morrow trema trust truth unto voice watch weary weep wilt wind withered words youth
Page 100 - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Page 163 - And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will show to you to-day : for the Egyptians whom ye have seen to-day, ye shall see them again no more for ever. The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.
Page 198 - And a feeling of sadness conies o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 199 - 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.
Page 137 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows ?He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 31 - FROM every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat : 'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat. 2. There is a place where Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads, — A place than all besides more sweet : It is the blood-bought mercy-seat.
Page 1 - Au. are not taken ! there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring. And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind. But if it were not so — if I could find No love in all the world for comforting. Nor any path but hollowly did ring, Where
Page 185 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Page 73 - And who was changed, and who was dead ; And all that fills the hearts of friends, When first they feel, with secret pain, their lives thenceforth have separate ends, And never can be one again ; The first slight swerving of the heart, That words are powerless to express, And leave it still unsaid in part, Or say it in too great excess. The very tones in which we spake Had something strange, I could but mark ; The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
Page 77 - THEY tell us of an Indian tree, Which, howsoe'er the sun and sky May tempt its boughs to wander free, And shoot, and blossom, wide and high, Far better loves to bend its arms Downward again to that dear earth, From which the life, that fills and warms Its grateful being, first had birth. 'Tis thus, though woo'd by flattering friends, And fed with fame (if fame it be) This heart, my own dear mother, bends, With love's true instinct, back to thee ! LOVE AND HYMEN.