The Vale of Strathmore: Its Scenes and Legends

Framsida
W. Paterson, 1875 - 524 sidor
 

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Sida 423 - Death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the Old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Sida 210 - For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song: and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion.
Sida 364 - Behold, I shew you a mystery ; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump ; for the trumpet shall sound ; and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is...
Sida 99 - I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia : for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. 7 Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him: for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready.
Sida 425 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.
Sida 386 - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Sida 203 - ... a time to rend and a time to sew; a time to keep silence and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
Sida 211 - If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.
Sida 395 - Within its crimson folds. Now from the town Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops From the bent bush, as through the verdant maze Of sweet-briar hedges I pursue my walk...
Sida 512 - I loved a love once, fairest among women; Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her— All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man : Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly; Left him to muse on the old familiar faces.

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