A gallery of famous English and American poets . soonThe sun majestic shall arise, and pour A flood of radiance fi-om the skies mid-noon:Their little lamps are needed then no more, But all enwrapt in heavens own light and glory,These sons of mercy hear the Saviour say, Ye did it to the suffering sons of clay. And so twas done to Me. The immortal storyOer the wide plains of Paradise shall crowds descend to welcome them on high. COXE. THE HEARTS SONG. In the silent mirlniorht watches, Listâthy bosom-door !How it knocketh, knocketli, knocketh, Knocketh evermore!Say Qot tis thy pulses beat
A gallery of famous English and American poets . soonThe sun majestic shall arise, and pour A flood of radiance fi-om the skies mid-noon:Their little lamps are needed then no more, But all enwrapt in heavens own light and glory,These sons of mercy hear the Saviour say, Ye did it to the suffering sons of clay. And so twas done to Me. The immortal storyOer the wide plains of Paradise shall crowds descend to welcome them on high. COXE. THE HEARTS SONG. In the silent mirlniorht watches, Listâthy bosom-door !How it knocketh, knocketli, knocketh, Knocketh evermore!Say Qot tis thy pulses beating; Tis thy heart of sin :Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, Rise, and let me in ! Death comes down with reckless footstep To the hall and hut:Think you Death will stand a-knocking Where the door is shut?Jesus waitethâwaitethâwaiteth : But thy door is fast!Grieved, away thy Saviour goeth: Death breaks in at last. Then tis thine to standâentreating Christ to let thee in :At the gate of heaven beating, Wailing for thy sin. 435 436 Nay, alas ! thou foolish virgin,Hast thou then forgot, Jesus waited long to know thee,But he knows thee not! WAYSIDE HOMES. As I rode on my errand along,I came where a prini little spire Chimed out to the landscape a glowed in the sunset like fire. WAYSIDE HOMES. 437 Its cross beamed a beckoning ray, And the home of my Motlier I knew; So I pressed to its portal to pray, And my book from my bosom I drew. How sweet was the service within, And the plain rustic chaunt how sincere I How welcome the pardon of sin, And the kind parting blessing how dear I And the parsonâI knew not his name, And the brethrenâeach face was unknown ; But the Church and the prayers were the same,And my heart claimed them all for its own. For I knewâin my own little nook,That eve, the same Psalter was said. And Lessons, the same from the Book,By my far-away darlings were read. So I 231ayed, and went on in my way, Blessing God for the Church He hath given: M
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksu, booksubjectenglishpoetry
