Thoughts on the Death of Little Children

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A. D. F. Randolph, 1852 - 154 páginas
 

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Página 122 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! 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!
Página 40 - PRAISE ye the Lord. Praise, O ye servants of the Lord, praise the name of the Lord.
Página 148 - But they are dead ; those two are dead ! Their spirits are in heaven !" Twas throwing words away ; for still The little Maid would have her will. And said, " Nay, we are seven !" * And all the summer dry.— Edit.
Página 71 - I have naught that is fair?" saith he; "Have naught but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The Reaper said, and smiled; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where He was once a child.
Página 147 - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Página 123 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child ; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face. And though at times impetuous with emotion And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, That cannot be at rest, — We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay ; By...
Página 139 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Página 147 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother ; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Página 146 - I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head.
Página 65 - TAKE them, O Death ! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own ! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone ! Take them, O Grave ! and let them lie Folded upon thy narrow shelves, As garments by the soul laid by, And precious only to ourselves ! Take them...

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