Modern Scottish Poets: With Biographical and Critical Notices, Volume 15

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Page 159 - The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think; From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink; To the life we are clinging they also would cling; But it speeds for us all, like a bird on the wing.
Page 159 - So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed. That wither away to let others succeed ; So the multitude comes, even those we behold To repeat every tale that has often been told.
Page 159 - The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne ; The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn ; The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave, Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
Page 351 - Tis, do to others as you would That they should do to you.
Page 160 - tis the draught of a breath, From the blossom of health to the paleness of death ; From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud : — Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Page 82 - When free grace awoke me by light from on high, Then legal fears shook me, I trembled to die ; No refuge, no safety, in self could I see ; Jehovah Tsidkenu my Saviour must be. My terrors all vanished before the sweet name ; My guilty fears banished, with boldness I came To drink at the fountain, life-giving and free : Jehovah Tsidkenu is all things to me.
Page 84 - When I stand before the throne, Dressed in beauty not my own, When I see Thee as Thou art, Love Thee with unsinning heart, Then, Lord ! shall I fully know, Not till then — how much I owe.
Page 2 - God, before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk, the God which fed me all my life long unto this day, the Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads...
Page 82 - Like tears from the daughters of Zion that roll, I wept when the waters went over His soul ; Yet thought not that my sins had nailed to the tree Jehovah Tsidkenu — 'twas nothing to me.
Page 160 - They loved, but the story we cannot unfold ; They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold ; They grieved, but no wail from their slumbers will come; They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

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