Selections from the writings of Mrs. Margaret M. Davidson: the mother of Lucretia Maria and Margaret M. Davidson

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Lea & Blanchard, 1843 - 232 Seiten
 

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Seite 126 - O Lord my God, thou art very great ; thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain...
Seite 144 - And Abraham gat up early in the morning to the place where he stood before the LORD : and he looked toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the plain, and beheld, and, lo, the smoke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace.
Seite 48 - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream, and solemn vision, Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear, Till oft converse with heavenly habitants Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, The unpolluted temple of the mind, And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, Till all be made immortal.
Seite 44 - Notes borne by angels' purest wing, And wafted by their breath away. When, sleeping in my grass-grown bed, Shouldst thou still linger here above, Wilt thou not kneel beside my head, And, sister, sing the song I love?
Seite 72 - In these poems," (" Amir Khan," &.c.) " there is enough of originality, enough of aspiration, enough of conscious energy, enough of growing power, to warrant any expectations, however sanguine, which the patrons, and the friends and parents, of the deceased, could have formed.
Seite 59 - Thou gem of light ! my leading star ! What thou hast been, I strive to be ; When from the path I wander far, Oh, turn thy guiding beam on me. Teach me to fill thy place below, That I may dwell with thee above; To soothe, like thee, a mother's woe, And prove, like thine, a sister's love. Thou wert unfit to dwell with clay, For sin too pure, for earth too bright ! And Death, who called thee hence away Placed on his brow a gem of light...
Seite 140 - And darkness fills the arch of heaven ; When not a murmur, not a sound To Fancy's sportive ear is given ; When the broad orb of heaven is bright, And looks around with golden eye ; When Nature...
Seite 72 - I have been no more. The haunts I loved, the flowers I nursed Will bloom as sweetly still, But other hearts and other hands My vacant place shall fill. And even mighty love must fail To bind my memory here — Like fragrance round the faded rose, 'Twill perish with the year.
Seite 189 - O thou great Source of joy supreme ! Whose arm alone can save, — Dispel the darkness that surrounds The entrance to the grave.
Seite 67 - Till life seem'd ebbing in a tear— Till in that fleeting space of sight Were merged the feelings of a year. And I have heard the voice of song, Till my full heart gush'd wild and free, And my rapt soul would float along As if on waves of melody.

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