 | 1893 - 844 str.
...hope, which it has been tinlaureate's life-work to clothe with beautiful forms, than these lines ? Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark...see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. Last things are proverbially precious. They are often cherished merely on account of their associations,... | |
 | 1893 - 404 str.
...Westminster Abbey at his funeral, and a part of which was embroidered upon his pall: Sunset and evening star And one clear call for me! And may there be no...Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. JP McCASKEY. OFFICIAL DEPARTMENT. SOUTHEASTERN... | |
 | General Congregational Association of Iowa - 1906 - 1214 str.
...more prompt payment. SAMUEL L. UNGER. SA MERRILL. EC STEVENSON. REPORT OF COMMITTEE ON OBITUARIES. "Twilight and evening bell. And after that the dark!...my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar." Time was when our Minutes were too precious to spare even a page or two for brethren who had fallen... | |
 | Francis Fisher Browne - 1889 - 374 str.
...asleep. Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. 4 Twilight and evening bell. And after that the dark...bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, 1 hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have croet the bar." In the presence of such poetry, criticism... | |
 | 1965 - 268 str.
[ Omlouváme se, ale obsah této stránky je nepřístupný. ] | |
 | Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1885 - 546 str.
...call for me ! And may there be no moaning of the When I put out to sea, as movmg seems But such a tide asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which...see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. QUEEN MAET: A DRAMA. nJlAMATIS QUEEN MARY. PHILIP, King of Naples and Sicily, afterwards King of Spain.... | |
 | 392 str.
[ Omlouváme se, ale obsah této stránky je nepřístupný. ] | |
| |
SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me ! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.... 
