The Poetical Works of Hemans, Heber and Pollok: Complete in One Volume

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J. Grigg, 1834 - 470ÆäÀÌÁö

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16 ÆäÀÌÁö - The martyr first, whose eagle eye Could pierce beyond the grave, Who saw his Master in the sky, And called on Him to save: Like Him, with pardon on his tongue In midst of mortal pain, He prayed for them that did the wrong: Who follows in his train?
278 ÆäÀÌÁö - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
17 ÆäÀÌÁö - BY cool Siloam's shady rill, How sweet the lily grows ! How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Sharon's dewy rose ! 2 Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God...
21 ÆäÀÌÁö - Holy, holy, holy! all the saints adore thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea...
65 ÆäÀÌÁö - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
14 ÆäÀÌÁö - I have trodden the winepress alone ; and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury ; and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment. For the day of vengeance is in mine heart, and the year of my redeemed is come.
26 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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 ransom'd nature, The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign ! SPRING.
305 ÆäÀÌÁö - The stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
332 ÆäÀÌÁö - Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ; Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair ; Sorrow and death may not enter there ; Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, It is there, it is there, my child !
23 ÆäÀÌÁö - Lo, the lilies of the field, How their leaves instruction yield ! Hark to nature's lesson given By the blessed birds of Heaven. Every bush and tufted tree Warbles sweet philosophy ; ' Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow : God provideth for the morrow. ' Say, with richer crimson glows The kingly mantle than the rose : Say, have kings more wholesome fare Than we poor citizens of air ? Barns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily. Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow.

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