Lyra Americana, Or, Verses of Praise and Faith from American Poets

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D. Appleton, 1865 - 295 pàgines

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Pàgina 193 - 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. Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
Pàgina 151 - THOU great Friend to all the sons of men, Who once appeared in humblest guise below, Sin to rebuke, to break the captive's chain, And call thy brethren forth from want and woe.
Pàgina 226 - THE CHANGELING. I HAD a little daughter, And she was given to me To lead me gently backward To the Heavenly Father's knee, That I, by the force of nature, Might in some dim wise divine The depth of his infinite patience To this wayward soul of mine. I know not how others saw her, But to me she was wholly fair, And the light of the heaven she came from Still lingered and gleamed in her hair ; For it was as wavy and golden, And as many changes took, As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples On the yellow...
Pàgina 166 - LOVE divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear! On thee we cast each earthborn care ; We smile at pain while thou art near. 2 Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, "Thou art near ! " 3 When drooping pleasure turns to grief.
Pàgina 220 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. " Shall I have nought that is fair ?" saith he ; " Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again.
Pàgina 100 - I LOVE thy kingdom, Lord,— The house of thine abode, — The Church our blest Redeemer saved With his own precious blood. 2 I love thy Church, O God ! Her walls before thee stand, Dear as the apple of thine eye, And graven on thy hand. 3 For her my tears shall fall ; For her my prayers ascend ; To her my cares and toils be given, Till toils and cares shall end.
Pàgina 264 - There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven; When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls. And all is drear but heaven ! There faith lifts up her cheeerful eye To brighter prospects given ; And views the tempest passing by? The evening shadows quickly fly And all serene in heaven...
Pàgina 236 - THE Spirit, in our hearts, Is whispering;, sinner, Come : The Bride, the Church of Christ, proclaims To all his children, Come. 2 Let him that heareth say To all about him, Come : Let him that thirsts for righteousness To Christ, the fountain, come.
Pàgina 264 - There is an hour of peaceful rest To mourning wanderers given ; There is a joy for souls distrest, A balm for every wounded breast : 'Tis found above, in heaven.
Pàgina 6 - The answering hills of Palestine Send back the glad reply ; And greet, from all their holy heights, The dayspring from on high. 4 O'er the blue depths of Galilee There comes a holier calm, And Sharon waves, in solemn praise, Her silent groves of palm. 5 "Glory to God ! " the sounding skies Loud with their anthems ring ; — "Peace to the earth, — good-will to men, From heaven's Eternal King...

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