Yesterday, To-day, and For Ever: Book X. – The Millennial Sabbath (Edward Henry Bickersteth Poems)
A Sabbath morn — softly the village bellsRing out their welcome to the sacred day.The weary swain has drunk of ...
A Sabbath morn — softly the village bellsRing out their welcome to the sacred day.The weary swain has drunk of ...
Yet once more, Harp of prophecy, once moreFondly I come soliciting thine aid;By whose celestial minstrelsy inspiredThe saintly Enoch walk'd ...
I.God is our strength and song, The Rock of our salvation: His courts of prayer, ye people, throng, And anthems ...
A Sabbath morn — softly the village bellsRing out their welcome to the sacred day.The weary swain has drunk of ...
O! bring me flow'rs, and I will wreathe A chaplet for thy hair, And as I twine each bud't will ...
Here rest my friend,-thy wanderings stay, And take a seat, while yet ye may, Within this hallowed spot; Here taste ...
The almond tree,-the almond tree-how lovely is its bloom, It flourishes and fades away before the summer noon; Alas! it ...
Fill, fill me a goblet from those dark and silent waters, Where the lovēd song of the minstrel for ever ...
Our life is one long childhood-and each toy Palls on our sick'ning fancy-all our joy Is but imperfect-something, something still ...
Our visions are deceiving lights that lead us on to our destruction; our idols are always broken in pieces before ...
Dearest, let me sit still watching by thee, Softly will I breathe, and softly weep; Sorrow's cup is now familiar ...
The sweet South-wind is breathing o'er Fair beauty's flower of love; The birds a gladsome song do pour On all-around-above: ...
And have I flung my once loved lyre Thus heedless by, Unstrung are all its chords and hushed Its melody. ...
I once could hope-alas! no more Her bright wings wave for me; The sunlit hours of life are o'er, I ...
The sun is bright o'er hill and dale, And summer's breath is on the gale; While mirth and jest are ...
Life is at best a thorny path, Then let us pluck the flowers, And cease to weep For those who ...
Forget!-Ah! 'tis a bitter word When spoken thus by thee, The music of life's fitful chord Will now unheeded be. ...
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