Thoughts for the Thoughtful

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Adelaide S. Seaverns
Eaton & Mains, 1893 - 368 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 202 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Pàgina 289 - I cannot say, and I will not say That he is dead. He is just away! With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand He has wandered into an unknown land And left us dreaming how very fair It needs must be, since he lingers there...
Pàgina 21 - The secret things belong unto the LORD our God : but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law.
Pàgina 96 - Blessed is he who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness. He has a work, a life-purpose; he has found it, and will follow it!
Pàgina 324 - So, take and use Thy work, Amend what flaws may lurk, What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim! My times be in Thy hand ! Perfect the cup as planned ! Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same ! PEOSPICE Fear death?
Pàgina 163 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies ; — Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Pàgina 285 - O Thou, to whose all-searching sight The darkness shineth as the light, Search, prove my heart ; it pants for Thee ; O, burst these bonds, and set it free. 2 Wash out its stains, refine its dross , Nail my affections to the cross ; Hallow each thought; let all within Be clean, as Thou, my Lord, art clean. 3...
Pàgina 199 - mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe ! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags...
Pàgina 19 - WHEN some beloved voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new — What hope? what help? what music will undo That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh, Not reason's subtle count; not melody Of viols, nor of pipes that Kaunus blew; Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees To the clear moon; nor yet the spheric laws Self-chanted, nor...
Pàgina 313 - The pastures are clothed with flocks ; The valleys also are covered over with corn ; They shout for joy, they also sing.

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