Moral and Religious Poems

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W. Blackwood and Sons, 1850 - Christian poetry, English - 262 pages
 

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Page 177 - PRAISE ye the LORD. Praise ye the LORD from the heavens : Praise him in the heights. Praise ye him, all his angels : Praise ye him, all his hosts.
Page 123 - And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night.
Page 147 - tis Death itself there dies. EPITAPH. STOP, Christian Passer-by — Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem'd he — O lift one thought in prayer for STC ; That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death ! Mercy for praise — to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same ! AN ODE TO THE RAIN.
Page 225 - Come to the sunset tree ! The day is past and gone ; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
Page 89 - God ! Thou hast made thy children mighty, By the touch of the mountain-sod. Thou hast fixed our ark of refuge Where the spoiler's foot ne'er trod ; For the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers...
Page 45 - Clasp me a little longer on the brink Of fate ! while I can feel thy dear caress ; And when this heart hath ceased to beat — oh ! think, And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, That thou hast been to me all tenderness, And friend to more than human friendship just. Oh ! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs — when I am laid in dust...
Page 122 - Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her.
Page 178 - They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters ; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.
Page 76 - When spear, and shield, and crown, In faintness are cast down ; Sustain us, thou ! 3 By Him who bowed to take The death-cup for our sake, The thorn, the rod; From whom the last dismay Was not to pass away; Aid us, O God...
Page 164 - With whose thick orchard-blooms the soft winds play, Send out their inmates in a happy flow, Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread With them those pathways, — to the feverish bed Of sickness bound ; yet, O my God ! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness ! WILLIAM SIDNEY WALKER.

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