St. Erle

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Simpkin, Marshall and Company, 1874 - 348 pages
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Page 179 - HENCE, loathed Melancholy! Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy. Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings ; There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Page 336 - OH yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Page 309 - If our love were but more simple, We should take Him at His word; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord.
Page 309 - SOULS OF MEN, WHY WILL YE SCATTER? *' COME to Jons." By FREDERICR WILLIAM FARER, DD ; b. 1615 ; died 1863. From his " Hymns," Lond. 1862, p. 289. OULS of men! why will ye scatter Like a crowd of frightened sheep ? Foolish hearts ! why will ye wander From a love so true and deep...
Page 336 - That not a worm is cloven in vain ; That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivell'd in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. Behold, we know not anything ; I can but trust that good shall fall At last — far off — at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream : but what am I ? An infant crying in the night : An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry.
Page 21 - O gentlemen, the time of life is short ! To spend that shortness basely were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
Page 194 - And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art, That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart, Be resolute and calm. O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
Page 36 - Lesley As she gaed o'er the border? She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For Nature made her what she is, And ne'er made sic anither! Thou art a queen, Fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee; Thou art divine, Fair Lesley. The hearts o
Page 289 - THERE is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains.
Page 271 - Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky.

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