Solitary HoursW. Blackwood, 1839 - Počet stran: 236 |
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Strana 145 - I feel Him in the gentle showers, The soft south wind, the breath of flowers, The sunshine and the shade. And yet (ungrateful that I am !) I've turned in sullen mood From all these things, whereof He said, When the great whole was finished, That they were
Strana 118 - But with the quiet dead. Yes, with the quiet dead, Baby ! thy rest shall be — Oh ! many a weary wight, Weary of life and light, Would fain lie down with thee ! Flee, little tender nursling ! Flee to thy grassy nest — There the first flowers shall blow, The first pure flake of snow Shall fall upon thy breast.
Strana 123 - Now, like a dew-drop shrined Within a crystal stone, Thou'rt safe in heaven, my dove ! Safe with the Source of Love, The Everlasting One. ' And when the hour arrives From flesh that sets me free, Thy spirit may await The first at heaven's gate, To meet and welcome me.
Strana 22 - Breakers are round thee ; Let fall the plummet now, Shallows may ground thee. Reef in the foresail, there ! Hold the helm fast ! So — let the vessel wear — There swept the blast. " What of the night, watchman ? What of the night?" " Cloudy — all quiet — No land yet — all's right ! " Be wakeful, be vigilant — Danger may be At an hour when all seemeth Securest to thee.
Strana 144 - THERE is a tongue in every leaf! A voice in every rill ! A voice that speaketh everywhere, In flood and fire, through earth and air ; A tongue that's never still...
Strana 145 - Tis the Great Spirit wide diffused Through everything we see, That with our spirits communeth Of things mysterious — Life and Death, Time and Eternity ! I see Him in the blazing sun, And in the thunder-cloud : I hear Him in the mighty roar, That rusheth through the forest hoar, When winds are piping loud.
Strana 162 - I SAW it in my evening walk, A little lonely flower; Under a hollow bank it grew, Deep in a mossy bower. An oak's...
Strana 120 - Tis hard to lay thy darling Deep in the damp cold earth, His empty crib to see, His silent nursery, Late ringing with his mirth.
Strana 100 - Types of those bitter moments, That flit like life's enjoyments, On rapid, rapid wings. Last hours with parting dear ones, (That time the fastest spends) Last tears in silence shed, Last words half uttered, Last looks of dying friends.