A Collection of Moral and Religious Poetry: For the Use of Families and Schools

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Whittaker and Company, 1835
 

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Pàgina 192 - WHO DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR! O THOU who dry'st the mourner's tear ! How dark this world would be, If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to Thee. The friends, who in our sunshine live, When winter comes are flown ; And he, who has but tears to give, Must weep those tears alone.
Pàgina 154 - Give me a calm, a thankful heart, From every murmur free ; The blessings of thy grace impart, And make me live to thee. 3 Let the sweet hope that thou art mine My life and death attend ; Thy presence through my journey shine, And crown my journey's end.
Pàgina 103 - Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother! that better land? Not there, not there, my child ! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Pàgina 139 - What is that, mother ? The dove, my son ! And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure, by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one's quick return. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove — In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. What is that, mother...
Pàgina 187 - God, the life and light •*• Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine. When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze Through golden vistas into heaven, — Those hues, that mark the sun's decline So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
Pàgina 187 - When night, with wings of starry gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine.
Pàgina 103 - Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb — It is there, it is there my child!
Pàgina 187 - THOU art, O GOD, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from Thee. Where'er we turn, tfiy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are Thine...
Pàgina 152 - Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led. 2 Our vows, our prayers, we now present Before thy throne of grace : God of our fathers ! be the God Of their succeeding race.
Pàgina 82 - Say, with richer crimson glows The kingly mantle than the rose : Say, have kings more wholesome fare Than we poor citizens of air ? Barns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily. Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow.

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