A Universal Prayer ; Death ; A Vision of Heaven ; and A Vision of Hell

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Samuel Maunder, 1829 - 188 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 109 - Where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all, but torture without end.
Pàgina 155 - The flower that smiles to day, To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay, Tempts and then flies; What is this world's delight?
Pàgina 33 - With step as noiseless as the summer air, Who comes in beautiful decay ?—her eyes Dissolving with a feverish glow of light, Her nostrils delicately closed, and on Her cheek a rosy tint, as if the tip Of Beauty's finger faintly press'd it there,— Alas! CONSUMPTION is her name.
Pàgina 140 - The Bowers fair ladies; and thy steps no more Than a delightful measure, or a dance.
Pàgina 153 - With all the rich enchantment thrown On Life's fair scene around, As if the world within a zone Of happiness were bound! Oh ! these endure a mournful doom, As day by day they die; Till Age becomes a barren tomb Where wither'd feelings lie
Pàgina 66 - A year hath travell'd o'er the sea of time; And now the shadows of the grave grow dark Upon the maiden; yet no mournful wail, Or word abrupt, betrays unlovely thoughts Of gloom and discontent within ; she dies As gently as delicious sound,—not false To present scenes, and yet prepared to die. Beautiful resignation, and the
Pàgina 52 - tears, And every tear ran burning from her heart! Thus day by day her unpartaken grief Was nursed, till it became a sleepless fire That sear'd her soul! One evening while she sat And smiled upon the starry worlds, her face Angelically seem'd to
Pàgina 47 - gladness from each happy face,— These are the guileless duties of the day: And when at length reposeful Evening comes, Joy-worn he nestles in the welcome couch, With kisses warm upon his cheek, to dream Of heaven, till morning wakes him to the world. The scene hath changed into a
Pàgina 85 - Though solemn, not austere ; though wisely dead To passion, and the wildering dreams of hope, Not unalive to tenderness and truth,— The good old man is honour'd and revered, And breathes upon the young-limb'd race around,
Pàgina 147 - Whose light on earth is quench'd and o'er; A pillar of the World's renown, The lion one that trampled Slavery down, Is now no more !-— But, England, wipe thy weeping eyes, For such a patriot never dies!

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