Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
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Pàgina 28 - Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale; And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings, as they roll And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Pàgina 19 - When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe, And led me up to man.
Pàgina 19 - Through every period of my life Thy goodness I'll pursue ; And after death, in distant worlds, The glorious theme renew. When nature fails, and day and night Divide thy works no more ; My ever-grateful heart, О Lord, Thy mercy shall adore.
Pàgina 92 - Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me and drink as I; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip and sip it up: Make the most of life you may, Life is short and wears away. Both alike are mine and thine Hastening quick to their decline: Thine's a summer, mine's no more, Though repeated to threescore. Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one!
Pàgina 45 - twas a pleasure too great ; I listen'd, and cried when she sung, Was nightingale ever so sweet ! How foolish was I to believe, She could dote on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forsake the fine folk of the town ; To think that a beauty so gay So kind and so constant would prove, Or go clad, like our maidens, in...
Pàgina 48 - TWAS at the silent, solemn hour, When night and morning meet; In glided Margaret's grimly ghost, And stood at William's feet. Her face was like an April morn, Clad in a wintry cloud; And clay-cold was her lily hand, That held her sable shroud. So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown : Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.
Pàgina 16 - WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise...
Pàgina 78 - Though battle call me from thy arms Let not my pretty Susan mourn; Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms William shall to his Dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.