The harvest of a quiet eye: leisure thoughts for busy lives, by the author of 'My study chair'. By I.R. VernonReligious Tract Society, 1880 - 316 páginas |
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The Harvest of a Quiet Eye: Leisure Thoughts for Busy Lives John Richard Vernon Vista de fragmentos - 1877 |
The Harvest Of A Quiet Eye: Leisure Thoughts For Busy Lives, By The Author ... John Richard Vernon Sin vista previa disponible - 2023 |
Términos y frases comunes
amid attained Autumn days beauty birds Blackcap blossom boughs bright burst calm CHARLOTTE ELLIOTT cheer Christmas rose comes cowslip dark death delight desolate disappointment dreams dull earnest earth EDWARD WHYMPER Eternity evanescent fade fall feel fields flowers fresh frost fruit garden gather gilt edges glad gleam gloom glory glow God's gone grass grave green growth harvest hath heart heaven holy hope hour JOHN BUNYAN labour leaf leaves life's light LL.D look Lord mind mist morning musings never night once overmastering pale passed peace prayer quiet rain RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY scythe seems silent snowdrop song sorrow soul spirit Spring days Summer days sweet sweet Spring tears tender things thou thought threshold thrush toil trees trembling twilight voice walk warm watch weary wind Winter days wonder wood wood anemones words yellow
Pasajes populares
Página 74 - And O ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves ! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway...
Página 294 - Say not, the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field.
Página 100 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Página 196 - Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do : and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun.
Página 74 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Página 142 - As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
Página 62 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Página 114 - FATHER, I know that all my life Is portioned out for me, And the changes that are sure to come, I do not fear to see ; But I ask Thee for a present mind Intent on pleasing Thee.
Página 64 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose, The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare ; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth ; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Página 65 - Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.