The golden sheaf poems, contributed by living authors, ed. by C Rogers |
Sisältö
117 | |
125 | |
133 | |
139 | |
146 | |
152 | |
158 | |
164 | |
60 | |
63 | |
70 | |
80 | |
86 | |
92 | |
102 | |
112 | |
115 | |
183 | |
190 | |
197 | |
204 | |
206 | |
213 | |
219 | |
226 | |
233 | |
Muita painoksia - Näytä kaikki
The Golden Sheaf Poems, Contributed by Living Authors, Ed. by C Rogers Ed Rogers Charles 1825-1890 Esikatselu ei käytettävissä - 2015 |
Yleiset termit ja lausekkeet
Aveleen beauty behold blessing breast breath bright brow Cashel's chosen lord Conradeen CROGGAN crown CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD Dane dark dark funereal dead death deep didst divine doctrines dark DORA GREENWELL dream E'en earth EDWARD HENEAGE eternal Evermore eyes fair fall fame flower gaze glad gleaming glorious glory glow Glycera God's golden grace grief Guinevere hand hath heaven holy hope hour jewels judgment seat king land life's light living mighty morn mortal neath night noble o'er Outwood pagan bands Palazzo Foscari passed poem poet Praise ye prayer rest rich pageant rose round sacred shining silent Sing singleness Of vision sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stand stars streams sublime sweet heart tears thee thine things thou art thought Tis the cup toil tower trembling Turges unto voice waves weary wild wondering wondrous words ye the Lord young
Suositut otteet
Sivu xx - Within himself, from more to more; Or, crown'd with attributes of woe Like glories, move his course, and show That life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom To shape and use.
Sivu 6 - mid darkness, storm, and strife, Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life ; But now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be o'er ; I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the door.
Sivu 97 - God's great field of labour All work is not the same ; He hath a service for each one Who loves His holy name.
Sivu 101 - Springs freshly as you kneel ; When words, like morning starlight, Melt powerless, — rise and sing ! And bring your sweetest music To Him, your gracious King. Pour out your song before Him To whom our best is due ; Remember, He who hears your prayer Will hear your praises too. Sing on in grateful gladness ! Rejoice in this good thing Which the Lord thy God hath given thee, The happy power to sing.
Sivu 61 - Will not raise its tones to be heard : It will hush the earth, and hush the hearts, And none will resist its .word. " Should I see the Master's treasures lost, The stores that should feed his poor, And not lift my voice, be it weak as it may, And not be grieved sore...
Sivu 142 - mid the dancing spray. Their bale-fires blaze in the mighty forge, Their life-pulse throbs in the mill, Their lightnings shiver the gaping gorge, And their thunders shake the hill. Ho! these are the Titans of toil and trade, The heroes who wield no sabre; But mightier conquests reapeth the blade That is borne by the lords of labour.
Sivu 125 - Pilgrim of life, all hail! He who at first called forth From nothingness the earth, Who clothed the hills in strength, and dug the sea, Who gave the stars to gem Night like a diadem, Thou little child, made thee ; Young habitant of earth Fair as its flowers, though brought in sorrow forth, Thou art akin to God who fashioned thee ! The heavens themselves shall vanish as a scroll, The solid earth dissolve, the stars grow pale, But thou, O Human Soul, Shalt be immortal ! Hail ! Thou young Immortal,...
Sivu 141 - Neath the heaven which is over all. Ho ! these are the Titans of toil and trade, The heroes who wield no sabre; But mightier conquests reapeth the blade That is borne by the Lords of Labour.
Sivu xxvii - Ah my God, What might I not have made of thy fair world, Had I but loved thy highest creature here? It was my duty to have loved the highest : It surely was my profit had I known : It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.
Sivu 62 - Go back to thy garden-plot, sweetheart, Go back till the evening falls ! And bind thy lilies, and train thy vines, Till for thee the Master calls. "Go make thy garden fair as thou canst, Thou workest never alone ; Perchance he whose plot is next to thine Will see it, and mend his own.