Home-songs for Home-birds

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Presbyterian board of publication, 1865 - 264 pages
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Page 159 - The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one! Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill...
Page 245 - JERUSALEM, my happy home ! '* Name ever dear to me ! When shall my labours have an end, In joy, and peace, and thee?
Page 37 - HOUR. BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.
Page 226 - WE were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep, It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered by the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, "Cut away the mast!
Page 153 - A nameless man amid a crowd that thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, unstudied, from the heart; A whisper on the tumult thrown, a transitory breath, It raised a brother from the dust; it saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast! Ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last.
Page 38 - Such an old moustache as I am Is not a match for you all ! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart.
Page 84 - MERRILY swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 74 - Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow : God provideth for the morrow. ' Say, with richer crimson glows The kingly mantle than the rose : Say, have kings more wholesome fare Than we poor citizens of air ? Barns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily. Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow.
Page 46 - A FAIR little girl sat under a tree Sewing as long as her eyes could see; Then smoothed her work and folded it right, And said, " Dear work, good night, good night...
Page 126 - Lily Sat by a stone, Drooping and waiting Till the sun shone. Little white Lily Sunshine has fed ; Little white Lily Is lifting her head. Little white Lily Said, " It is good ; Little white Lily's Clothing and food.

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