The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically IllustratedJames Hogg & Son, 1869 - 511 sider |
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Side 4
... Thou with Jove our hearts shalt share , Of Jove and Thee we are the care . O Father , King , whose heavenly face Shines serene on all thy race , We thy magnificence adore , And thy well - known aid implore ; Nor vainly for thy help we ...
... Thou with Jove our hearts shalt share , Of Jove and Thee we are the care . O Father , King , whose heavenly face Shines serene on all thy race , We thy magnificence adore , And thy well - known aid implore ; Nor vainly for thy help we ...
Side 8
... Thou shalt come to judge the quick and dead— I shudder to foresee , O God ! what then shall be ! When Thou shalt come , angelic legions round , With thousand thousands , and with trumpet sound ; CHRIST , grant me in the air , With ...
... Thou shalt come to judge the quick and dead— I shudder to foresee , O God ! what then shall be ! When Thou shalt come , angelic legions round , With thousand thousands , and with trumpet sound ; CHRIST , grant me in the air , With ...
Side 11
... Thou stay ? Thy road is ready , and Thy paths made straight , With longing expectation wait The consecration of Thy beauteous feet . Ride on triumphantly ! Behold we lay Our lusts and proud wills in Thy way . Hosannah ! welcome to our ...
... Thou stay ? Thy road is ready , and Thy paths made straight , With longing expectation wait The consecration of Thy beauteous feet . Ride on triumphantly ! Behold we lay Our lusts and proud wills in Thy way . Hosannah ! welcome to our ...
Side 12
... Thou com'st , our woes , our sins to bear , But , girt with all Thy Father's might , His vengeance to declare . The terrors of that awful day , oh ! who shall understand ? Or who abide , when Thou in wrath shalt lift Thy holy hand ? The ...
... Thou com'st , our woes , our sins to bear , But , girt with all Thy Father's might , His vengeance to declare . The terrors of that awful day , oh ! who shall understand ? Or who abide , when Thou in wrath shalt lift Thy holy hand ? The ...
Side 25
... Thou , whose glorious , yet contracted light , Wrapt in night's mantle , stole into a manger ; Since my dark soul and brutish is Thy right , To man of all beasts be not Thou a stranger : Furnish and deck my soul , that Thou mayest have ...
... Thou , whose glorious , yet contracted light , Wrapt in night's mantle , stole into a manger ; Since my dark soul and brutish is Thy right , To man of all beasts be not Thou a stranger : Furnish and deck my soul , that Thou mayest have ...
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The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically Illustrated Alexander Henley Grant Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1869 |
The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically Illustrated Alexander Henley Grant Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
agony ancient angels anniversary Apostles Ascension Ash Wednesday Augustine baptism Bernard of Clairvaux Bishop blessed blood called Canon celebration century charity Charles Wesley CHRIST is risen Christian Chrysostom Circumcision Circumcision of Christ commemoration Council Council of Elvira crown custom death disciples divine doth earth Easter Ephesus Epiphany eternal Eusebius Evangelist faith fast Father feast festival flesh forty days give glorious glory Gospel grace hath heart heaven heavenly Holy Week Homily honour human hymn Irenæus Jesus Jewish Jews John King Lent light Lord Lord's martyrdom martyrs Maundy Thursday Nativity o'er observance Paschal Passion Passover peace penitence Pentecost poem poet poetical praise prayer prophet Resurrection Rogation days sacred saints Saviour says season solemn Sonnet soul star Stephen Stephen's day Sunday tears Tertullian Thee Thine Thou throne Thy name Thy nature tion unto verses weeping whilst wise words
Populære avsnitt
Side 63 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity...
Side 104 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Side 63 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Side 134 - Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin through' which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, For I have more.
Side 89 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
Side 63 - And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his 'humorous stage' With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, That Life brings with her in her equipage; As if his whole vocation Were endless imitation.
Side 63 - Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by...
Side 391 - O ! th' exceeding grace Of highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels He sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
Side 38 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Side 105 - And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus and the dog Anubis, haste.