The casket of poesy [ed. by J. Cole].John Cole 1827 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 6-10 de 14
Página 77
... sound , In distant hallelujah's stole , Wild murmuring o'er the raptur'd soul . Then swift to every startled eye , New streams of glory light the sky ; Heaven bursts her azure gates to shower , Effulgence on the midnight hour . On ...
... sound , In distant hallelujah's stole , Wild murmuring o'er the raptur'd soul . Then swift to every startled eye , New streams of glory light the sky ; Heaven bursts her azure gates to shower , Effulgence on the midnight hour . On ...
Página 91
... rise ; He who passed the flood before thee , Guides thy path to yonder skies : Hark ! the sound of angels ' hymnings Rolls harmonious o'er thine ear ; See ! the walls and golden portals Through the mist THE BANK OF THE RIVER OF DEATH. ...
... rise ; He who passed the flood before thee , Guides thy path to yonder skies : Hark ! the sound of angels ' hymnings Rolls harmonious o'er thine ear ; See ! the walls and golden portals Through the mist THE BANK OF THE RIVER OF DEATH. ...
Página 99
... own light Will take an Angel's form , Instant dispel the gather'd night , And bear thee thro ' the storm . And when the trumpets last dread sound The Universe shall shake , And sudden from the yawning ground The astonished dead awake 99.
... own light Will take an Angel's form , Instant dispel the gather'd night , And bear thee thro ' the storm . And when the trumpets last dread sound The Universe shall shake , And sudden from the yawning ground The astonished dead awake 99.
Página 101
... thing to think , In yon bright seat , The sounds I heard on Earth's last brink , Were hymn notes sweet . The links of nature gently falling , The soul all calm ; Here nothing could be found appalling- Death like a balm 101.
... thing to think , In yon bright seat , The sounds I heard on Earth's last brink , Were hymn notes sweet . The links of nature gently falling , The soul all calm ; Here nothing could be found appalling- Death like a balm 101.
Página 107
... Formed by God , in vain for you ? Were the notes that Music wreathes , In her sweet enchanting chain , All the impassioned sounds she breathes , Bid to flow , for you , in vain ? In the garden of the soul , Is there nothing 107.
... Formed by God , in vain for you ? Were the notes that Music wreathes , In her sweet enchanting chain , All the impassioned sounds she breathes , Bid to flow , for you , in vain ? In the garden of the soul , Is there nothing 107.
Términos y frases comunes
adore angels art thou balm beam beauteous beauty Behold Beneath blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath Bridlington bright calm celestial cheerful chorus clouds coursers dark death deep divine dost dread dust to dust Earth to earth EDMESTON eternal ev'ry fade fair flood flowers gloom glorious glory glow grace green hail Hark hath heart heaven HERMIONE hills HINDERWELL hope hour HYMN Israel Lamb light Lord lyre midnight hour moon morn murmurs NATIVE SCENES nature's neath night o'er Ocean plain pow'r praise Queen of fragrance reign rill rise roar roll round Saviour SCARBOROUGH scenes shades shine sing sithe skies smiles soft song sorrow soul sound spring Star of Bethlehem storm streams sweet swell tempest thee thine thro throne thunder Thy mercy tomb tremble vale voice wand'ring warbling waves wild winds wing wond'rous youth
Pasajes populares
Página 5 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Página 23 - Thus wondrous fair : thyself how wondrous then, Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels : for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Página 12 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heav'n pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives, To enjoy is to obey.
Página 15 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the star of Bethlehem.
Página 22 - tis nought to me; Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full; And where he vital breathes, there must be joy.
Página 115 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Página 4 - And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings, as they roll And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Página 4 - T^HE spacious firmament on high, •*• With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. Th' unwearied Sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display; And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The Moon takes up the wondrous tale ; And nightly to the...
Página 20 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, Ye constellations, while your angels strike, • , Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great source of day! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On nature write with every beam His praise.
Página 19 - ... impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills ; And let me catch it, as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound; Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound His stupendous praise ; whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, In mingled clouds to Him ; whose sun exalts,...