The Lamp [ed. by T.E. Bradley]., Volumes 20-21

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Thomas Earnshaw Bradley
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Page 93 - O thou by whom we come to God— The life, the truth, the way ; The path of prayer thyself hast trod ; Lord, teach us how to pray.
Page 93 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh ; The falling of a tear ; The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.
Page 93 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air, His watchword at the gates of death : He enters heaven with prayer. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways ; While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry, Behold, he prays...
Page 128 - We are both in the decline of life, my dear Dean, and have been some years going down the hill ; let us make the passage as smooth as we can. Let us fence against physical evil by care, and the use of those means which experience must have pointed out to us : let us fence against moral evil by philosophy.
Page 252 - I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, — The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?
Page 331 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Page 374 - Scandinavian antiquities — namely, the Age of Stone, the Age of Bronze, and the Age of Iron.
Page 158 - And she was a widow of about fourscore and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.
Page 376 - Yes, give me the land that hath legends and lays That tell of the memories of long vanished days; Yes, give me a land that hath story and song, Enshrine the strife of the right with the wrong; Yes, give me a land with a grave in each spot And names in the graves that shall not be forgot...
Page 403 - ... keep them dry ; their pace was slow, need we say sorrowful ; all were in tears. Owen and Kathleen went first, with a child upon the back, and another in the hand, of each. Their route lay by their former dwelling, the door of which was open, for it had not been inhabited. On passing it they stood a moment ; then with a simultaneous impulse both approached — entered — and took one last look of a spot to which their hearts clung with enduring attachment. They then returned ; and as they passed,...

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