Aunt Tabitha's Trial: A Story

Predný obal
J. H. Earle, 1888 - 288 strán (strany)

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Strana 227 - When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys: I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water.
Strana 108 - But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.
Strana 150 - THE Lord hear thee in the day of trouble; the name of the God of Jacob defend thee; Send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen thee out of Zion...
Strana 225 - As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the LORD is round about his people from henceforth even for ever.
Strana 33 - A DREARY place would be this earth, Were there no little people in it ; The song of life would lose its mirth, Were there no children to begin it...
Strana 244 - And Pharaoh's daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.
Strana 98 - Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould ; Price of many a crime untold ; Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold...
Strana 278 - That all the jarring notes of life Seem blending in a psalm, And all the angles of its strife Slow rounding into calm. And so the shadows fall apart, And so the west winds play ; And all the windows of my heart I open to the day.
Strana 3 - Mong the tribes of swarthy men ; Wheresoe'er a foot hath gone, Wheresoe'er the sun hath shone On a league of peopled ground, Little children may be found ! Blessings on them ! they in me Move a kindly sympathy, With their wishes hopes and fears ; With their laughter and their tears ; With their wonder so intense, And their small experience ! Little children, not alone On the wide earth are ye known.
Strana 109 - O little hands ! that, weak or strong, Have still to serve or rule so long, Have still so long to give or ask ; I, who so much with book and pen Have toiled among my fellow-men, Am weary, thinking of your task. O little hearts ! that throb and beat With such impatient, feverish heat, Such limitless and strong desires ; Mine that so long has glowed and burned, \Vith passions into ashes turned Now covers and conceals its fires.

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