The Rose of Sharon

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Sarah Carter Edgarton Mayo
A. Tompkins and B.B. Mussey, 1849

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Страница 255 - And Pharaoh's daughter said unto her, Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.
Страница 198 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again...
Страница 121 - Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Страница 258 - The good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth that which is evil : for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh.
Страница 114 - A LITTLE bird I am, Shut from the fields of air ; And in my cage I sit, and sing To Him who placed me there ; Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because, my God, it pleases thee.
Страница 263 - Most precious the opportunity of becoming wise, in turning many to righteousness, and of shining, at last, as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars, forever and ever.
Страница 22 - God gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but, when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.
Страница 264 - No; earth has angels, though their forms are moulded, But of such clay as fashions all below ; Though harps are wanting, and bright pinions folded, We know them by the love-light on their brow. I have seen angels by the sick one's pillow; Theirs was the soft tone and the soundless tread ; Where smitten hearts were drooping like the willow, They stood " between the living and the dead.
Страница 114 - Oh, it is good to soar These bolts and bars above, To Him whose purpose I adore, Whose providence I love, And in Thy mighty will to find The joy, the freedom of the mind.
Страница 137 - Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices, to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive...

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