Our Home Beyond the Tide: And Kindred Poems

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Crocker, Cornish, 1872 - 252 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 193 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Pàgina 192 - I long for household voices gone, For vanished smiles I long, But God hath led my dear ones on, And He can do no wrong. I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies.
Pàgina 158 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Pàgina 191 - I see the wrong that round me lies, I feel the guilt within ; I hear, with groan and travail-cries. The world confess its sin. Yet in the maddening maze of things. And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed stake my spirit clings: I know that God is good!
Pàgina 159 - Let us be patient. These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Pàgina 76 - Heaven is not reached at a single bound ; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
Pàgina 155 - ONE sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er; I am nearer home to-day Than I ever have been before; Nearer my Father's house, Where the many mansions be; Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the crystal sea; Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down; Nearer leaving the cross, Nearer gaining the crown.
Pàgina 220 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Pàgina 100 - And I sit and think, when the sunset's gold Is flushing river and hill and shore, I shall one day stand by the water cold, And list for the sound of the boatman's oar; I shall watch for a gleam of the...
Pàgina 199 - As some rare perfume in a vase of clay Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown.

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