The Tide of Even, and Other Poems, with Tales and Songs |
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... that are Borne inward unto souls afar , Along the Psalmist's music deep , Now tell me if that any is , For gift or grace , surpassing this— ' He giveth his beloved sleep ? ' ” MRS . BROWNING . то Charles Swain , Esquire , AUTHOR OF " THE.
... that are Borne inward unto souls afar , Along the Psalmist's music deep , Now tell me if that any is , For gift or grace , surpassing this— ' He giveth his beloved sleep ? ' ” MRS . BROWNING . то Charles Swain , Esquire , AUTHOR OF " THE.
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... Psalmist's music deep , Now tell me if that any is , For gift or grace , surpassing this— ' He giveth his beloved sleep ? " " MRS . BROWNING . 1 : | : ཀ ཀུང མ ཀ ད | : ཀ 1 : | : | то Charles Swain , Esquire , AUTHOR OF " THE.
... Psalmist's music deep , Now tell me if that any is , For gift or grace , surpassing this— ' He giveth his beloved sleep ? " " MRS . BROWNING . 1 : | : ཀ ཀུང མ ཀ ད | : ཀ 1 : | : | то Charles Swain , Esquire , AUTHOR OF " THE.
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... grace , As if a minister of highest heaven , With look of love , and upward leading hand , Arrayed in robe of sun , and crown'd with stars , Before whose face of smile , tho ' awe might be , Yet nothing , meaning evil , could remain ...
... grace , As if a minister of highest heaven , With look of love , and upward leading hand , Arrayed in robe of sun , and crown'd with stars , Before whose face of smile , tho ' awe might be , Yet nothing , meaning evil , could remain ...
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John Swain (Writer of Verse.) Something for nothing , may with grace be granted , But how , from nothing , something may be gained , To human understanding is unknown ; And left alone , what has the world to give ? Let but the sun go ...
John Swain (Writer of Verse.) Something for nothing , may with grace be granted , But how , from nothing , something may be gained , To human understanding is unknown ; And left alone , what has the world to give ? Let but the sun go ...
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... grace the scene ! Th ' electric light Glances its flashing eye from dizzy dome , And strikes a course across the night afar ! The bonfires , like volcanoes , in full blaze , Flap , with their fanning wings , the wondering sky ! Swift ...
... grace the scene ! Th ' electric light Glances its flashing eye from dizzy dome , And strikes a course across the night afar ! The bonfires , like volcanoes , in full blaze , Flap , with their fanning wings , the wondering sky ! Swift ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Tide of Even, and Other Poems, with Tales and Songs John Swain (Writer of Verse ) Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
The Tide Of Even, And Other Poems, With Tales And Songs John Swain (Writer of Verse ). Sin vista previa disponible - 2019 |
The Tide Of Even, And Other Poems, With Tales And Songs John Swain (Writer of Verse ). Sin vista previa disponible - 2019 |
Términos y frases comunes
angel angel band angel song Azim beautiful beneath bilberry bird blessing blest bliss bloom bowers breath bride bright bright eyes brow burning Caliph calm Cashmere charm cheerful clouds cometh dark dear death deep Delhi delight divine doth dream e'en e'er earth eyes Fadladeen fair Feramorz flame flowers gladness gloom glory glow gold golden grace hand happy haram Harvest Home hath heard heart heaven hill holy Holy Valley hope hour Kirklees Hall Lahore Lalla Rookh land light lips lone look lute maid merry Mokanna morn mountain never night o'er pass'd peace Peri POEMS Princess round seraph shining sigh sing skies smile snowdrop song soul spirit splendour Spring stars summer sunshine sweet tell thee There's thine thou thought throne Tide Twas unto vale Veil voice warm wild wind of war wings wonder words wretch young youth Zelica
Pasajes populares
Página 81 - And now — behold him kneeling there By the child's side, in humble prayer, While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one, And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven The triumph of a soul forgiven...
Página 81 - Twas a bright smile the Angel threw From heaven's gate, to hail that tear Her harbinger of glory near. " Joy, joy for ever ! my task is done — The gates are passed, and heaven is won ! Oh ! am I not happy?
Página 76 - No, no ! When the stem dies, the leaf that grew Out of its heart must perish too. Then turn to me, my own love, turn, Before, like thee, I fade and burn ; Cling to these yet cool lips and share The last pure life that lingers there.
Página 139 - Fly to the desert, fly with me, Our Arab tents are rude for thee ; But oh ! the choice what heart can doubt Of tents with love, or thrones without ? Our rocks are rough, but smiling there Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet, nor lov'd the less For flowering in a wilderness.
Página 140 - A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn. Come, if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — Fresh as the fountain under ground...
Página 81 - thou blessed child ! When, young and haply pure as thou, I look'd and pray'd like thee ; but now — " He hung his head ; each nobler aim And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept! Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
Página 77 - O'er all the enchanted regions there, How beauteous must have been the glow, The life, the sparkling from below! Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks Of golden melons on their banks, More golden where the sunlight falls; Gay lizards, glittering on the...
Página 126 - One, — what a rapture is his. Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide O'er the Lake of Cashmere, with that One by his side ! If woman can make the worst wilderness dear. Think, think what a heaven she must make of Cashmere...
Página 97 - I never loved a tree or flower but 'twas the first to fade away ; I never nursed a dear Gazelle, to glad me with its soft black eye, but when it came to know me well, and love me, it was sure to marry a marketgardener.
Página 27 - And music, too — dear music ! that can touch Beyond all else the soul that loves it much — Now heard far off, so far as but to seem Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream; All was too much for him, too full of bliss, The heart could nothing feel, that felt not this...