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adored angels beam birth bless breast breath bright bring child comes cross dark dead death deed deep divine doth dreams dust dwell dying earth endure eternity faith fall Father fear feel flowers flows give glorious glory glows golden grace grave hand happy hast hath heart heaven holy hope hour human kind King land leaves light live Lord man's mercy endureth mind morning mourn move Nature Nearer never night o'er pass peace praise present rest returning rise round sacred sage shade shadow shine sing skies sleep song soul sound spirit spread stand stars stream sure sweet Teach tears temples thee thine things thou thou art thought throne thy mercy tide trust truth unto voice wandering waste wave weep winds wisdom worship
Page lviii - IN the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
Page 5 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Page lxx - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page xli - God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands The cloudy pillar glided slow ; By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow.
Page lxxxvii - Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee: E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to Thee.
Page cxliii - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Page cxxxiv - But love is indestructible— Its holy flame for ever burneth ; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
Page 3 - LET us, with a gladsome mind, Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; For his mercies aye endure, Ever faithful, ever sure.