Centenary Edition [of the Writings of Theodore Parker], Zväzok 3

Predný obal
American Unitarian Association, 1908
 

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Strana 344 - Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came; And, lo! Creation widened in man's view.
Strana 106 - Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth; Glad hearts, without reproach or blot, Who do thy work and know it not: Oh!
Strana 38 - The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tables yet unbroken; The word by seers or sibyls told In groves of oak, or fanes of gold, Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind. One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost.
Strana 304 - Rest is not quitting The busy career; Rest is the fitting Of self to its sphere.
Strana 288 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost.
Strana 185 - One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists — one only ; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power ; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good. The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the Will supreme For time and for eternity...
Strana 342 - Phoebus-Apollo when the sun rose or went down ; yes, many a savage, his hands smeared all over with human sacrifice, shall come from the East and the West, and sit down in the kingdom of God...
Strana 160 - you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water!
Strana 91 - And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro', To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wine's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an
Strana 235 - These surface-troubles come and go, Like rufflings of the sea ; The deeper depth is out of reach To all, my God, but Thee.

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