A voice from the past: poems

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B. S. Adams, 1912 - 131 pages
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Page 101 - Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.
Page 101 - And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them ; and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them ; Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the kingdom of God.
Page 70 - IN Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares ; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears.
Page 57 - The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone. Shadows of evening fall around us, and the world seems but a dim reflection, — itself a broader shadow. We look forward into the coming lonely night. The soul withdraws into itself. Then stars arise, and the night is holy.
Page 73 - Pale flowers ! Pale perishing flowers ! Ye're types of precious things; Types of those bitter moments, That flit like life's enjoyments, On rapid, rapid wings.
Page 52 - Thou comest as the memory of a dream, Which now is sad because it hath been sweet...
Page 5 - ... Lucretia had a bunch of purple violets fastened in her girdle, and with a forced smile she placed them in the hands of her dying friend. . • She looked at them a moment with a sort of abstracted attention, and an expression strangely unearthly, as she said, " I have thought that wild flowers might be the alphabet of angels, whereby they write on hills and fields mysterious truths, which it is not given our fallen nature to understand.
Page 73 - The blush upon her living cheek Had shamed the morning skies , And diamond light is not more bright Than were her youthful eyes. To see her on a summer's day, Gave love a lighter wing ; And happy thoughts would crowd the heart, And gush from many a spring. I know the language of the flowers, And love to hear them grieve, — When crimsoning to the eye of morn, Or drooping to the eve. I...
Page 79 - And I heard a voice from heaven, saying, Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for from henceforth they do rest from their labors and their works do follow them.
Page 69 - Ay, this, this is the month for me ! I could not love a scene Where the blue sky was always blue, The green earth always green. It is like love ; oh, love should be An ever-changing thing, — The love that I could worship must Be ever on the wing.

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