The Rosary Magazine, 14±Ç |
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American answered appeared asked beautiful Blessed brought called carried Catholic century child Christian Church Confraternity court dear death divine door eyes face faith Father Rocco feel flowers followed French friars friends gave girl give given Grace hand head heart Holy hope hour interest Italy Jesus King lady land leave letters light lives look Lord Mary matter means mind month mother nature never night once passed poor prayer present priest received religious remained Rosary seemed seen side sister soon soul standing story taken tell temple things thought tion took turned Virgin walls whole woman women wonderful young
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400 ÆäÀÌÁö - BOWED by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
191 ÆäÀÌÁö - Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
397 ÆäÀÌÁö - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
400 ÆäÀÌÁö - Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and land? To trace the stars and search the heavens for power; To feel the passion of Eternity?
400 ÆäÀÌÁö - O masters, lords and rulers in all lands, How will the Future reckon with this man? How answer his brute question in that hour When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
57 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tis not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve it.
353 ÆäÀÌÁö - Let me, who have not any child to die, Weep with you for the little one whose love I have known nothing of. The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed Their pressure round your neck ; the hands you used To kiss. — Such arms — such hands I never knew. May I not weep with you? Fain would I be of service — say some thing, Between the tears, that would be comforting, — But ah! so sadder than yourselves am I, Who have no child to die.
248 ÆäÀÌÁö - there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance.
212 ÆäÀÌÁö - We are become a reproach to our neighbours, A scorn and derision to them that are round about us.