Lyra Sacra Americana: or, Gems from American sacred poetry. Selected and arranged, with notes and biographical sketches, by C. D. ClevelandSampson Low, Son & Marston, 1868 - 16 pages |
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Page 13
... church from ill , Or bless with good , Thyself a servant still . Meek Jesus ! to my soul Thy spirit lending , Teach me to live , like Thee , in lowly love ; With humblest service all Thy saints befriending , Until I serve before Thy ...
... church from ill , Or bless with good , Thyself a servant still . Meek Jesus ! to my soul Thy spirit lending , Teach me to live , like Thee , in lowly love ; With humblest service all Thy saints befriending , Until I serve before Thy ...
Page 15
... church like that above . George W. Bethune . XIII . HYMN FOR RESURRECTION DAY . O JESUS , when I think of Thee , Thy manger , cross , and throne , My spirit trusts exultingly In Thee , and Thee alone . I see Thee in Thy weakness first ...
... church like that above . George W. Bethune . XIII . HYMN FOR RESURRECTION DAY . O JESUS , when I think of Thee , Thy manger , cross , and throne , My spirit trusts exultingly In Thee , and Thee alone . I see Thee in Thy weakness first ...
Page 66
... church's curse , the empire's ban , By one poor monk were all defied , Who never fear'd the face of man . Half - battles were the words he said , Each born of prayer , baptized in tears ; And routed by them , backward fled The errors of ...
... church's curse , the empire's ban , By one poor monk were all defied , Who never fear'd the face of man . Half - battles were the words he said , Each born of prayer , baptized in tears ; And routed by them , backward fled The errors of ...
Page 78
... ; But they all , with gleeful faces , Turn'd their back upon the Lord . You had thought the church a prison , Had you seen how they did pour , With giddy , giddy faces , From the consecrated door 78 LYRA SACRA AMERICANA .
... ; But they all , with gleeful faces , Turn'd their back upon the Lord . You had thought the church a prison , Had you seen how they did pour , With giddy , giddy faces , From the consecrated door 78 LYRA SACRA AMERICANA .
Page 82
... , Utmost lands Thy dwelling , Lord ! Where the wilderness is lying , And the trees of ages nod , Westward , in the desert crying , Make a highway for our God . Westward , till the church be kneeling In the forest 82 LYRA SACRA AMERICANA .
... , Utmost lands Thy dwelling , Lord ! Where the wilderness is lying , And the trees of ages nod , Westward , in the desert crying , Make a highway for our God . Westward , till the church be kneeling In the forest 82 LYRA SACRA AMERICANA .
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Common terms and phrases
adore Alice Cary angels bear beauty bend Bethune blessed blest bliss born bosom breath bright calm canst cheer Christ Christian church crown dark death divine doth dwell earth eternal faith Father fear feet flowers George George W glorious glory glow grace grief hath hear heaven heavenly holy hope hour HYMN James Freeman Clarke Jesus John Greenleaf Whittier life's light live Lord lowly Lydia Huntley Sigourney Massachusetts mercy morning night o'er onward pain path peace poems praise pray prayer published Ray Palmer rest rise sacred Samuel F Samuel Longfellow Saviour shed shine sing skies smile song sorrow soul soul-dirge spirit strength strife sweet tears Thee Thine Thomas Hastings Thou art Thou hast thought throne thy heart Thy love toil trod trust truth voice wave weary William Bingham William Cullen Bryant William H wilt word Yale College
Popular passages
Page 146 - 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.
Page 143 - ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
Page 166 - It was no path of flowers, Through this dark world of ours, Beloved of the Father, thou didst tread ; And shall we in dismay Shrink from the narrow way, When clouds and darkness are around it spread?
Page 97 - Through storm and night : When the wild tempests rave, Ruler of wind and wave, Do thou our country save By thy great might ! 2 For her our prayer shall rise To God, above the skies ; On him we wait: Thou who art ever nigh, Guarding with watchful eye, To thee aloud we cry, God save the State ! John a.
Page 148 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian Whose portal we call Death. She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto 'that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ Himself doth rule.
Page 96 - Stand up, stand up for Jesus ! The strife will not be long ; This day the noise of battle, The next the victor's song : To him that overcometh, A crown of life shall be ; He with the king of glory Shall reign eternally.
Page 145 - In the world's broad field of battle. In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Page 99 - I LOVE Thy kingdom, Lord, The house of Thine abode, The Church our blest Redeemer saved With His own precious blood. 2. I love Thy church, O God ! Her walls before Thee stand, Dear as the apple of Thine eye, And graven on Thy hand.
Page 292 - Rouse to some work of high and holy love, And thou an angel's happiness shalt know, Shalt bless the earth while in the world above ; The good begun by thee shall onward flow In many a branching stream, and wider grow ; The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours, Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers.
Page 222 - Still through the cloven skies they come, With peaceful wings unfurled, And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world ; Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing.