The Treasury of American Sacred Song: With Notes Explanatory and Biographical

¾ÕÇ¥Áö
William Garrett Horder
H. Frowde, 1900 - 401ÆäÀÌÁö

µµ¼­ º»¹®¿¡¼­

¼±ÅÃµÈ ÆäÀÌÁö

±âŸ ÃâÆǺ» - ¸ðµÎ º¸±â

ÀÚÁÖ ³ª¿À´Â ´Ü¾î ¹× ±¸¹®

Àαâ Àο뱸

7 ÆäÀÌÁö - TO him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
92 ÆäÀÌÁö - As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel. Since God is marching on.
9 ÆäÀÌÁö - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?
99 ÆäÀÌÁö - Then to side with Truth is noble When we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, And 'tis prosperous to be just: Then it is the brave man chooses, While the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit— Till his Lord is crucified, And the multitude make virtue Of the faith they had denied.
57 ÆäÀÌÁö - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
26 ÆäÀÌÁö - Out from the heart of nature rolled The burdens of the Bible old; The litanies of nations came, Like the volcano's tongue of flame, Up from the burning core below, — The canticles of love and woe...
34 ÆäÀÌÁö - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
47 ÆäÀÌÁö - The healing of His seamless dress Is by our beds of pain ; We touch Him in life's throng and press, And we are whole again.
262 ÆäÀÌÁö - As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod, Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God : I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh-hen flies In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies : By so many roots as the marsh-grass sends in the sod I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness-of God : Oh, like to the greatness of God is the greatness within The range of the marshes, the liberal marshes of Glynn.
33 ÆäÀÌÁö - The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!

µµ¼­ ¹®ÇåÁ¤º¸