The Pilgrim's Staff: Poems Divine and MoralDuffield, 1906 - 134 pagine |
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Pagina 18
... body dead - alive , Bereaved of comfort , lies in thrall , Do thou , my soul , begin to thrive , And unto honey turn this gall ; So shall we both through outward woe , The way to inward comfort know . As to the flesh we food do give ...
... body dead - alive , Bereaved of comfort , lies in thrall , Do thou , my soul , begin to thrive , And unto honey turn this gall ; So shall we both through outward woe , The way to inward comfort know . As to the flesh we food do give ...
Pagina 25
... body of this world , like thine , My Little World ! That fit of fire Once off , our bodies shall aspire To our soules bliss : then we shall rise , And view our selves with cleerer eyes In that calm Region , where no night Can hide us ...
... body of this world , like thine , My Little World ! That fit of fire Once off , our bodies shall aspire To our soules bliss : then we shall rise , And view our selves with cleerer eyes In that calm Region , where no night Can hide us ...
Pagina 26
... body to that dust It so much loves ; and fill the room My heart keeps empty in thy Tomb . Stay for me there ; I will not faile To meet thee in that hollow Vale : And think not much of my delay : I am 26 The Pilgrim's Staff.
... body to that dust It so much loves ; and fill the room My heart keeps empty in thy Tomb . Stay for me there ; I will not faile To meet thee in that hollow Vale : And think not much of my delay : I am 26 The Pilgrim's Staff.
Pagina 31
... body sure ; He that loves thee , He that keeps And guards thee , never slumbers , never sleeps . The smiling Conscience in a sleeping breast Has only peace , has only rest ; The music and the mirth of kings Are all but very discords ...
... body sure ; He that loves thee , He that keeps And guards thee , never slumbers , never sleeps . The smiling Conscience in a sleeping breast Has only peace , has only rest ; The music and the mirth of kings Are all but very discords ...
Pagina
... ) Lord ! living here are we Now that my body dead - alive Sweet baby , sleep ! what ails my dear Wotton , Sir Henry ( 1568-1640 ) great Power ! in whom I move Oh , thou 18 288 10 G V S S V G J V S & 130 The Pilgrim's Staff.
... ) Lord ! living here are we Now that my body dead - alive Sweet baby , sleep ! what ails my dear Wotton , Sir Henry ( 1568-1640 ) great Power ! in whom I move Oh , thou 18 288 10 G V S S V G J V S & 130 The Pilgrim's Staff.
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The Pilgrim's Staff: Poems Divine and Moral (Classic Reprint) Fitz Roy Carrington Anteprima non disponibile - 2017 |
The Pilgrim's Staff: Poems Divine and Moral (Classic Reprint) Fitz Roy Carrington Anteprima non disponibile - 2018 |
Parole e frasi comuni
Alexander Pope Amner Angels ask'd Augustus Montague Toplady Awake babe beautiful Bishop of Calcutta blast blood body dead-alive breast breath Brightest and best Charles Wesley Christina G Cowper dark day most calm dear death Divine dost doth dwell ears eternal fair farewell earth's bliss fear flower forbear to weep glorious Lord grace grief happy home hath heart Heaven Heber Herbert Hierusalem holy Isaac Watts Jehovah's awful throne John John Milton Joseph Addison King light live Lord God Almighty Lord have mercy Lord my pasture Lycidas madest earth mirth morning Muse never night that covers painting pasture shall prepare Peace Poems praise Quarles reachest Reginald Heber Robert Louis Stevenson saints Saviour shade Shepherd shine sick sleep song sorrows soul sprite Sweet baby sweetly tears thee thine eyes thou art Thou hast thou heavy thousand tongues Watts Wesley wide and starry William Ernest Henley Wither
Brani popolari
Pagina 87 - Nothing in my hand I bring; Simply to thy cross I cling ; Naked, come to thee for dress ; Helpless, look to thee for grace ; Foul, I to the fountain fly ; Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
Pagina 47 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Pagina 34 - The Sundays of Man's life, Threaded together on Time's string, Make bracelets to adorn the Wife Of the eternal glorious King. On Sunday, Heaven's gate stands ope! Blessings are plentiful and rife; More plentiful than hope!
Pagina 11 - Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow; And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and souls
Pagina 44 - Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood : But now my oat proceeds. And listens to the herald of the sea That came in Neptune's plea, He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain?
Pagina 43 - Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears; "Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed.
Pagina 45 - The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said : But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Pagina 42 - Tempered to the oaten flute ; Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long, And old Damaetas loved to hear our song. But O the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return ! Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves, With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, And all their echoes mourn.