Winter: Sunday Morning (John Bowring Poems)
God of the morning! Thou, the sabbath's God!Round whose bright footsteps thousand planets roll:A million beings at Thy mighty nodAre ...
God of the morning! Thou, the sabbath's God!Round whose bright footsteps thousand planets roll:A million beings at Thy mighty nodAre ...
Let Thy gracious spirit reach us In this earthly solitude;What we know not do Thou teach us, Thou who art all-wise and ...
O garland not the worthless weedsWhich shade the sweet flowers in the meads, Neglecting the most bright and fairLike undiscerning zealots ...
There is no terror in the grave For him who, in its gloominess,Perceives Thy hand, outstretched to save, Thy welcoming smile that ...
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