The Grey Bretheren: And Other Fragments in Prose and Verse

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E.P. Dutton & Company, 1905 - American literature - 147 pages
 

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Page 37 - And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
Page 10 - O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, In the secret places of the stairs, Let me see thy countenance, Let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, And thy countenance is comely.
Page 11 - Lord, I am small, and yet so great, The whole world stands to my estate And in Thine Image I create. The sea is mine ; and the broad sky Is mine in its immensity : The river and the river's gold ; The earth's hid treasures manifold ; The love of creatures small and great, Save where I reap a previous hate ; The noon-tide sun with hot caress, The night with quiet loneliness ; The wind that bends the pliant trees, The whisper of the summer breeze ; The kiss of snow and rain ; the star That shines a...
Page 34 - Wait for me here with them, dear Child, I will fetch you after service." The church began to fill ; old men in smock frocks and tall hats, little children wrapped warm against the cold, lads, shining and spruce, old women in crossed shawls and wonderful bonnets. The service was not very long ; then the Recluse went up into the old grey stone pulpit. The villagers settled to listen — he did not often preach. " My brothers and sisters, to-night we keep the Birth of the Holy Babe, and tonight you...
Page 10 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 126 - ... Sometimes he lived on the ground, sometimes in a tree, sometimes in the water, sometimes in a cave ; and I can't tell you what he lived on, for no man knows, not even the Tinkle-Tinkle himself. One day the Tinkle-Tinkle was going through a wood, when he heard a piteous weeping. He stopped, for he was a kindly Tinkle-Tinkle, and found two small dormice sobbing under a tree because they had been cruelly deserted by their parents. He wiped their eyes tenderly and took them to his cave home; but...
Page 11 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone." A Song of Low Degree Lord, I am small, and yet so great, The whole world stands to my estate, And in Thine Image I create. The sea is mine; and the broad sky Is mine in its immensity: The river and the river's gold; The earth's hid treasures manifold; The love of creatures small and great, Save where I reap a precious hate; The noon-tide sun with hot caress, The night with quiet loneliness; The wind...
Page 8 - Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood ye hate no life in you." " And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations." From Genesis to the Revelation of the Divine reaches the rainbow of the Sacramental system — outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace : — The sacrament of purging, purifying labour, to balance and control the knowledge of good and evil : — The sacrament of life, divine life, with and wine, fruit of the accursed ground, but useless...
Page 130 - Tinkle-Tinkle had one gift— he could sing — how, no man knew, not even the Tinkle-Tinkle himself; and this is how he discovered his gift. One day in a secluded spot in the forest he found a dying stag, and the TinkleTinkle was moved with great compassion and yet could do nothing. The great stag's head drooped lower and lower till even the sun melted in a mist of pity, and the trees sighed, and the breezes hushed their voices. Then suddenly the Tinkle-Tinkle crept close and began to sing, why...
Page 118 - She buzzed outside the clover and made it talk in its sleep, so that it said hi a cross, sleepy voice — "Go away, you stupid busy bee, and don't wake me up in the middle of the night." She pulled the tail of the nightingale who was singing to his lady-love in the hawthorn bush, and he lost his place in his song and nearly tumbled over backwards into the garden. Then to her joy she met an elderly, domestic puss taking an evening walk with a view to field-mice. Here was sport. Fluffikins hid in the...

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