The Poetical Works of Hemans, Heber and Pollok: Complete in One Volume (Google eBook)

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J. Grigg, 1831 - English poetry - 470 pages
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Page 9 - And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.
Page 22 - Holy, holy, holy, all the saints adore thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea ; Cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee, Which wert and art and evermore shalt be.
Page 287 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
Page 280 - Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale? They have one season all are ours, to die!
Page 27 - Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransomed nature, The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign ! 727 Psalm 60.
Page 18 - 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 ! <#irst Sunbag after %ip|rang. No.
Page 306 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ; The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Page 18 - His head with the beasts of the stall ; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of all ! 3.
Page 270 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 7 - And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before it was brought thither so that there was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house, while it was in building.

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