Thoughts on the Death of Little Children

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A.D.F. Randolph, 1865 - 184 páginas
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1852 edition. Excerpt: ... If for the soft bright hair, And brow and bosom fair, And life, now dust, her soul too deeply yearn; O gentle forms, entwined Like tendrils, which the wind May wave, so clasped, but never can unlink, Send from your calm profound A still, small voice, a sound Of hope, forbidding that lone heart to sink. By all the pure, meek mind Of your pale beauty shrined, By childhood's love--too bright a bloom to die-O'er her worn spirit shed, O fairest, holiest dead The Faith, Trust, Light of Immortality Mrs. Hemanb. (c)it flje DenU.) of a nnltr. As the sweet flower that scents the morn, But withers in the rising day, Thus lovely seemed the infant's dawn, Thus swiftly fled his life away. Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death timely came with friendly care, The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it bloom for ever there. Yet the sad hour that took the boy Perhaps has spared a heavier doom, Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy, Or from the pangs of ills to come. He died before his infant soul Had ever burned with wrong desire, Had ever spurned at Heaven's control, Or madly quenched its sacred fire. He died to sin, he died to care, But for a moment felt the rod; Then, springing on the noiseless air, Spread his light wings, and soared to God. Belfast Selection Of Hymns. (c)it ifu "Dr.uti of an tn(.mi. Why dost thou weep? Say, can it be Because, for ever blest, and free From sin, from sorrow, and from pain, Thy babe shall never weep again; Shall never feel, shall never know Even half thy little load of wo? What was thy prayer, when his first smile Did thy young mother-heart beguile; When his first cry was in thine ear, And on thy cheek his first warm tear, And to thy heart at first were pressed The throbbings of his little breast? What was th
 

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Página 122 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!
Página 40 - PRAISE ye the Lord. Praise, O ye servants of the Lord, praise the name of the Lord.
Página 146 - I met a little cottage girl : She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodlai.d air, And she was wildly clad; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; — Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be? " " How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Página 139 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Página 63 - Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth: therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Almighty. For he maketh sore, and bindeth up : he woundeth, and his hands make whole.
Página 27 - And he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.
Página 93 - There's not a flower on all the hills : the frost is on the pane : I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again : I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high : I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
Página 92 - Last May we made a crown of flowers: we had a merry day; Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May; And we danced about the may-pole and in the hazel copse, Till Charles's Wain came out above the tall white chimney-tops.
Página 56 - Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD shall be a light unto me.
Página 50 - Oh ! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight...

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