Our Glorified: Poems & Passages of Consolation Especially for Those Bereaved by the Loss of ChildrenElizabeth Howard Foxcroft Lee, 1888 - 136 pages |
Table des matières
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Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Our Glorified, Poems and Passages of Consolation: Especially for Those ... Elizabeth Howard Foxcroft Aucun aperçu disponible - 2016 |
Our Glorified; Poems and Passages of Consolation Especially for Those ... Elizabeth Howard 1850-1888 Foxcroft Aucun aperçu disponible - 2016 |
Our Glorified, Poems and Passages of Consolation: Especially for Those ... Elizabeth Howard Foxcroft Aucun aperçu disponible - 2018 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
angels arms baby Baby's beside Bessie died bitter blessed bliss blue bosom breast bright calmly CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER Christ clasp cold comfort dark darling DAVID MACBETH MOIR DAY BREAK dead dear child sleeps death dream earth empty nest eternal eyes face fair faith Father flowers fold forever G. P. LATHROP GEORGE KLINGLE glad glad songs glory God's gone grave graveyard heart grief hand hath hear heart heaven heavenly human Voice hush keep kiss lamb life's light lips little child little feet live lonely look Lord lost love's morning mother never nevermore o'er pain peace PHILLIPS BROOKS prayer rest ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP shadow Shepherd shining shining band sight silent slumber smile soft sorrow soul spirit SUSAN COOLIDGE sweet Talitha cumi tears tender thee Thine thou hast thoughts of Resurrection to-day treasures voice wait wake walk watch weep wept
Fréquemment cités
Page 109 - For the Lord will not cast off for ever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.
Page 106 - They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun strike upon them, nor any heat: for the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall be their shepherd, and shall guide them unto fountains of waters of life: and God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes.
Page 79 - This restless, curling head from off your breast, This lisping tongue that chatters constantly ; If from your own the dimpled hands had slipped, And ne'er would nestle in your palm again ; If the white feet into the grave had tripped, I could not blame you for your heartache then.
Page 74 - There is no death ! What seems so is transition : This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 90 - Then, fainting soul, arise and sing ; Mount, but be sober on the wing ; Mount up, for Heaven is won by prayer, Be sober, for thou art not there...
Page 22 - For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed ; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.
Page 71 - MY LAMBS. I LOVED them so, That when the elder Shepherd of the fold Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold, And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, I bade him go. He claimed the pet ; A little fondling thing, that to my breast Clung always, either in quiet or unrest ; I thought of all my lambs I loved him best, And yet — and yet — I laid him down, In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears; For some voice told me that, in after-years, He should know nauj;ht of passion, grief,...
Page 73 - How it will seem, when, in that happier clime, It never will ring out like funeral chime Over the dead. No tears ! no tears ! Will there a day come that I shall not weep ? For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. Yes, yes ; thank God ! no grief that clime shall keep, No weary years. Ay ! it is well : Well with my lambs, and with their earthly guide ; There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, Or strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — Ay ! it is well.
Page 65 - Her feet were firmly planted on the Rock ; Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted. Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock. She knows Omnipotence has heard her prayer, And cries, " It shall be done,
Page 42 - Weep not for her ! Weep not for her! Her memory is the shrine Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers, Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline, Sweet as the song of birds among...