De La Salle Monthly: A Catholic Magazine, Volumes 5-6

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De La Salle Catholic Association, 1872
 

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Page 108 - For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the juggler's leap, Would now its wearied vision close • — • Would, childlike, on His love repose Who " giveth His beloved sleep." And friends ! — dear friends ! — When it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let one, most loving of you all, Say " Not a tear must o'er her fall " —
Page 131 - Ah God, for a man with heart, head, hand, Like some of the simple great ones gone For ever and ever by, One still strong man in a blatant land, Whatever they call him, what care I, Aristocrat, democrat, autocrat — one Who can rule and dare not lie.
Page 108 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 107 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved?
Page 142 - Play on, play on ; I am with you there, In the midst of your merry ring ; I can feel the thrill of the daring jump, And the rush of the breathless swing. I hide with you in the fragrant hay, And I whoop the smothered call, And my feet slip up on the seedy floor, And I care not for the fall.
Page 127 - He is a man speaking to men — a man, it is true, endowed with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind...
Page 62 - In my poor mind it is most sweet to muse Upon the days gone by ; to act in thought Past seasons o'er, and be again a child ; To sit in fancy on the turf-clad slope, Down which the child would roll ; to pluck gay flowers, Make posies in the sun, which the child's hand, (Childhood offended soon, soon reconciled,) Would throw away, and...
Page 108 - O earth, so full of dreary noises ! O men, with wailing in your voices ! O delved gold, the wailers heap! O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! God strikes a silence through you all, And giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 249 - A remarkable circumstance in this case was, that after these experiments he had no distinct recollection of his dreams, but only a confused feeling of oppression or fatigue ; and used to tell his friends that he .was sure they had been playing some trick upon him.
Page 198 - KIND hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the blossoms, Kind deeds are the fruits; Love is the sweet sunshine That warms into life, For only in darkness Grow hatred and strife.

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