The Poetical Works of Reginald HeberLittle, Brown, 1853 - 324 páginas |
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Página 24
... grief his towery head , " Not yet , not yet , the day of rest , " he said ; " It may not be . Destruction's gory wing Soars o'er the banners of the younger king , Too rashly brave , who seeks with single sway To stem the lava on its ...
... grief his towery head , " Not yet , not yet , the day of rest , " he said ; " It may not be . Destruction's gory wing Soars o'er the banners of the younger king , Too rashly brave , who seeks with single sway To stem the lava on its ...
Página 46
... CHRISTMAS DAY . Он Saviour , whom this holy morn Gave to our world below ; To mortal want and labour born , And more than mortal woe ! Incarnate Word ! by every grief , By each temptation 46 HYMNS . FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT CHRISTMAS.
... CHRISTMAS DAY . Он Saviour , whom this holy morn Gave to our world below ; To mortal want and labour born , And more than mortal woe ! Incarnate Word ! by every grief , By each temptation 46 HYMNS . FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT CHRISTMAS.
Página 47
Reginald Heber. Incarnate Word ! by every grief , By each temptation tried , Who lived to yield our ills relief , And to redeem us died ! If gaily clothed and proudly fed , In dangerous wealth we dwell ; Remind us of Thy manger bed , And ...
Reginald Heber. Incarnate Word ! by every grief , By each temptation tried , Who lived to yield our ills relief , And to redeem us died ! If gaily clothed and proudly fed , In dangerous wealth we dwell ; Remind us of Thy manger bed , And ...
Página 75
... grief to see , Jerusalem , Jerusalem ! our tears shall flow for thee . Oh ! hadst thou known thy day of grace , and flock'd beneath the wing Of Him who call'd thee lovingly , thine own anointed King , Then had the tribes of all the ...
... grief to see , Jerusalem , Jerusalem ! our tears shall flow for thee . Oh ! hadst thou known thy day of grace , and flock'd beneath the wing Of Him who call'd thee lovingly , thine own anointed King , Then had the tribes of all the ...
Página 76
... 'st thou to this dismal strand Of danger , grief , and shame ? ” " From blessed Sion's holy land , By Folly led , I came ! " " What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare ? Whose 76 HYMNS . THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
... 'st thou to this dismal strand Of danger , grief , and shame ? ” " From blessed Sion's holy land , By Folly led , I came ! " " What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare ? Whose 76 HYMNS . THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
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Términos y frases comunes
Abou Malek Adrastus ancient arms Arthur Ayesha Bashaw beauty behold beneath blessed blest blood bower brave breast bright brow Carados cheek coursers Cronian curse dark dear death dewy dreadful earth Fadlallah fair falchion fame fate Fatima fear flowers Ganora Gawain gaze gold grace grief Guenever Gwendolen harp hast hath head heart Heaven hill holy hope Hosanna hour joy in Heaven king knight knightly Lancelot Logrian Lord maid mantle mercy Merlin mortal Mount Hor Nebaioth numbers o'er pain pale pass'd Pelops Pindar pomp praise prayer pride proud queen rose round Saviour secret Selim shade Shekh silent silver smile smoky night song sorrow soul Spain spake spear spirit stars strong SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY sweet swell sword tear thee thine thou throne Titania toil tomb trembling tyrant vols wake warrior wave weep wild wing wreath yonder youth
Pasajes populares
Página 87 - From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain. 2 What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's. isle ; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown : The heathen in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone.
Página 69 - Holy, Holy, Holy ! though the darkness hide Thee, Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see, Only Thou art Holy : there is none beside Thee, Perfect in power, in love, and purity. 4 Holy, Holy, Holy ! Lord God Almighty...
Página 51 - Brightest and best of the sons of the morning ! Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid ! Star of the east, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid...
Página 51 - Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom, and offerings divine, Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine ? 4 Vainly we offer each ample oblation, Vainly with gifts would His favor secure ; Richer, by far, is the heart's adoration, Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
Página 87 - Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransomed nature The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
Página 88 - BREAD of the world, in mercy broken, Wine of the soul, in mercy shed, By Whom th.e words of life were spoken, And in Whose death our sins are dead ; 2 Look on the heart by sorrow broken, Look on the tears by sinners shed ; And be Thy feast to us the token That by Thy grace our souls are fed.
Página 50 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!
Página 75 - The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade ; The winds that sweep the mountain, or lull the drowsy glade: The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way, The moon, and stars, their Maker's name in silent pomp display. Shall man the lord of nature, expectant of the sky,— Shall man alone unthankful, his little praise deny?
Página 91 - Thou art gone to the grave ! we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side; But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may die, for the SINLESS has died ! 3 Thou art gone to the grave! and its mansion forsaking, Perchance thy weak spirit in fear linger'd long ; But the mild rays of Paradise beam'd on thy waking, And the sound which thou heardst was the seraphim's song.
Página 292 - Mid Nature's embers, parched and dry, Where o'er some tower in ruin laid, The peepul spreads its haunted shade ; Or round a tomb his scales to wreathe, Fit warder in the gate of death ! Come on ! Yet pause! behold us now Beneath the bamboo's arched bough...