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Seite 268 - Fair daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the evensong; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. » We have short time to stay as you; We have as short a spring; As quick a growth to meet decay, As you or anything. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to be found again.
Seite 157 - twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one, To live in Paradise alone. How well the skilful gardener drew Of flowers, and herbs, this dial new; Where, from above, the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run; And, as it works, the industrious bee Computes its time as well as we. How could such sweet and wholesome hours Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers!
Seite 268 - ... Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee : A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company : I gazed — and gazed — but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought : For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude ; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with...
Seite 321 - Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest ? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal : that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together.
Seite 321 - Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain: but God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him; and to every seed his own body.
Seite 172 - Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem : To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet, Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' speckled breast, When upward-springing, blithe, to greet The purpling east.
Seite 175 - The thistle that was in Lebanon sent to the cedar that was in Lebanon, saying, Give thy daughter to my son to wife : and there passed by a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and trode down the thistle.
Seite 313 - All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth; because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it; surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth; but the word of our God shall stand for ever.
Seite 185 - O READER ! hast thou ever stood to see The holly tree? The eye that contemplates it well, perceives Its glossy leaves Ordered by an intelligence so wise As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen Wrinkled and keen; No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, Can reach to wound ; But as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.