A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1889 - Authors, American - 274 pages
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Page 61 - The men of grace have found Glory begun below ; Celestial fruits on earthly ground From faith and hope may grow. 4 The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets Before we reach the heavenly fields, Or walk the golden streets.
Page 45 - Let — not — your — heart — be — troubled. In — my — Father's — house — are — many — mansions.
Page 237 - HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat...
Page 140 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Page 178 - Rouse to some work of high and holy love, And thou an angel's happiness shalt know ; Shalt bless the earth while in the world above ; The good begun by thee shall onward flow In many a branching stream, and wider grow ; The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours, Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers.
Page 4 - My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity...
Page 69 - HARK ! the song of jubilee ; Loud as mighty thunders roar, Or the fulness of the sea, When it breaks upon the shore : Hallelujah ! for the Lord God omnipotent shall reign ; Hallelujah ! let the word Echo round the earth and main.
Page 133 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Page 24 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Page 203 - And tender blade that feared the chilling blast Escapes unhurt beneath so warm a veil. In such a world, so thorny, and where none Finds happiness unblighted, or, if found, Without some thistly sorrow at its side, It seems the part of wisdom, and no sin Against the law of love, to measure lots With less distinguished than ourselves, that thus We may with patience bear our moderate ills, And sympathize with others, suffering more.

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