Poems

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Strana 57 - Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too ; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Strana 318 - Faithful remembrancer of one so dear, 0 welcome guest, though unexpected here ! Who bidst me honour with an artless song, Affectionate, a mother lost so long, 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own ; And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she.
Strana 319 - I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such?
Strana 224 - Than cruelty, most devilish of them all. Mercy to him that shows it is the rule And righteous limitation of its act, By which Heaven moves in pardoning guilty man : And he that shows none, being ripe in years, And conscious of the outrage he commits, Shall seek it, and not find it, in his turn.
Strana 206 - And of an humbler growth, the other tall, And throwing up into the darkest gloom Of neighbouring cypress, or more sable yew, Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf That the wind severs from the broken wave...
Strana 233 - One song employs all nations; and all cry, * Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us !* The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain-tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy ; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round.
Strana 321 - Wouldst softly speak and stroke my head and smile — Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart : the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Strana 199 - How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Mem'ry slept.
Strana 34 - God made the country, and man made the town. What wonder then that health and virtue, gifts, That can alone make sweet the bitter draught, That life holds out to all, should most abound And least be threatened in the fields and groves...
Strana 230 - Whose fire was kindled at the prophets' lamp, The time of rest, the promised sabbath, comes. Six thousand years of sorrow have well nigh Fulfilled their tardy and disastrous course Over a sinful world; and what remains Of this tempestuous state of human things Is merely as the working of a sea Before a calm, that rocks itself to rest...

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