The Widow's Daughter. A Narrative

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Side 41 - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
Side 40 - THE heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.
Side 58 - Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive.
Side 11 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then, Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Side 84 - AH, lovely appearance of death ! What sight upon earth is so fair* Not all the gay pageants that breathe Can with a dead body compare : With solemn delight I survey The corpse, when the spirit is fled. In love with the beautiful clay, And longing to lie in its stead.
Side 81 - HAPPY soul, thy days are ended, All thy mourning days below : Go, by angel guards attended, To the sight of Jesus go ! Waiting to receive thy spirit, Lo ! the Saviour stands above, Shows the purchase of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love.
Side 95 - O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting? The sting of death is sin; and the power of sin is the law: but thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Side 35 - While through their ranks in silver pride The nether crescent seems to glide. The slumb'ring breeze forgets to breathe. The lake is smooth and clear beneath, Where once again the spangled show Descends to meet our eyes below.
Side 1 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Side 22 - Who plow'd, with oxen of their own, Their small paternal field of corn. Nor trumpets summon him to war, Nor drums disturb his morning sleep, Nor knows hv merchants...

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