Autres éditions - Tout afficher
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Page 36 - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Page 206 - For all things are yours ; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; all are yours ; and ye are Christ's ; and Christ is God's.
Page 132 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence...
Page 80 - The better days of life were ours; The worst can be but mine; The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers, Shall never more be thine.
Page 54 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.
Page 144 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Page 13 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Page 20 - OH happiness ! our being's end and aim ! Good, pleasure, ease, content ? whate'er thy name : That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die, Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, O'er-look'd, seen double, by the fool, and wise.