Father Tabb: His Life and Work ; a Memorial

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Stratford, 1921 - 174 pages
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Page 43 - Tho' the sun Hath my vesture spun, He had laboured, alas, in vain, But for the shade That the Cloud hath made, And the gift of the Dew and the Rain," Then laugh and upturn All your fronds, little Fern, And rejoice in the beat of the rain ! John B.
Page 105 - CHILDHOOD OLD Sorrow I shall meet again, And Joy, perchance — but never, never, Happy Childhood, shall we twain See each other's face forever! And yet I would not call thee back, Dear Childhood, lest the sight of me, Thine old companion, on the rack Of Age, should sadden even thee.
Page 130 - TO the cradle-bough of a naked tree, Benumbed with ice and snow, A Christmas dream brought suddenly A birth of mistletoe. The shepherd stars from their fleecy cloud Strode out on the night to see; The Herod north-wind blustered loud To rend it from the tree. But the old year took it for a sign, And blessed it in his heart: " With prophecy of peace divine, Let now my soul depart.
Page 73 - Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
Page 90 - ANOTHER lamb, O Lamb of God, behold, Within this quiet fold, Among Thy Father's sheep I lay to sleep! A heart that never for a night did rest Beyond its mother's breast. Lord, keep it close to Thee, Lest waking it should bleat and pine for met THE TAX-GATHERER. " A ND pray, who are you ? " •iXSaid the violet blue To the Bee, with surprise At his wonderful size, In her eye-glass of dew. "I, madam," quoth he, " Am a publican Bee, Collecting the tax On honey and wax.
Page 104 - How many a heart must pass me by For one that cleaves to me! How many a suppliant wave of sound Must still unheeded roll, For one low utterance that found An echo in my soul...
Page 63 - Tis all the way to Toe-town, Beyond the Knee-high hill, That Baby has to travel down To see the soldiers drill. One, two, three, four, five, a-row — A captain and his men — And on the other side, you know, Are six, seven, eight, nine, ten. John...
Page 60 - Cobbler's row; But the Boot and the Shoe Would have nothing to do With the Slipper, because she was low. But the king and the queen and their daughter On the Cobbler chanced to call; And as neither the Boot Nor the Shoe would suit, The Slipper went off to the ball.
Page 133 - Dank region of Death we have risen with Him. Back from our sepulchre rolleth the stone, And Spring, the bright Angel, sits smiling thereon. We are His witnesses. See, where we lay The snow that late bound us is folded away; And April, fair Magdalen, weeping anon, Stands flooded with light of the new-risen Sun!

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