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Page 28 - The Swing How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do!
Page 142 - THE baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that " this is I :" But as he grows he gathers much, And learns the use of "I," and "me," And finds "I am not what I see, And other than the things I touch.
Page 76 - His Mother, who was patient, being dead. Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep, I visited his bed, But found him slumbering deep, With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet From his late sobbing wet.
Page 312 - Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.
Page 217 - A BABY'S feet, like sea-shells pink, •^^ Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet. Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat They stretch and spread and wink Their ten soft buds that part and meet. No flower-bells that expand and shrink Gleam half so heavenly sweet As shine on life's untrodden brink A baby's feet.
Page 76 - From his late sobbing wet. And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For, on a table drawn beside his head, He had put, within his reach, A box of counters and a...
Page 407 - Others shall sing the song, Others shall right the wrong, — Finish what I begin, And all I fail of win. What matter, I or they? Mine or another's day, So the right word be said And life the sweeter made?
Page 76 - To God, I wept, and said : Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood, Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath and say, ' I will be sorry for their childishness.
Page 490 - Man Contemplating; and who, and what he was, The transitory Being that beheld This Vision, — when and where, and how he lived ;Be not this labour useless. If such theme May sort with highest objects, then, dread Power, Whose gracious favour is the primal source Of all illumination, may my Life Express the image of a better time, More wise desires, and simpler manners ;— nurse My Heart in genuine freedom: — all pure thoughts Be with me ; — so shall thy unfailing love Guide, and support, and...
Page 197 - THE SHEPHERD HOW sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot! From the morn to the evening he strays; He shall follow his sheep all the day, And his tongue shall be filled with praise. For he hears the lamb's innocent call, And he hears the ewe's tender reply; He is watchful while they are in peace, For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.