Sunshine in the Soul: Poems Selected by the Editor of "Quiet Hours".

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Roberts [Brothers], 1881 - 124 psl.

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38 psl. - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
124 psl. - Abide with me ; fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away : Change and decay in all around I see ; 0 Thou Who changest not, abide with me.
39 psl. - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea ! — OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
11 psl. - Serene, I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea; I rave no more 'gainst time or fate. For, lo ! my own shall come to me. I stay my haste, I make delays, For what avails this eager pace? I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face.
55 psl. - Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see; And what I do in anything, To do it as for Thee.
67 psl. - O LORD ! how happy should we be If we could cast our care on thee, — If we from self could rest; And feel at heart, that one above In perfect wisdom, perfect love, Is working for the best.
112 psl. - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear ; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time ; Say not Good Night...
64 psl. - If our love were but more simple, We should take him at his word ; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord.
56 psl. - TUDGE not; the workings of his brain " And of his heart thou canst not see ; What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, In God's pure light may only be A scar, brought from some well-won field, Where thou wouldst only faint and yield.
118 psl. - I thank Thee too that Thou hast made Joy to abound ; So many gentle thoughts and deeds Circling us round. That in the darkest spot of earth Some love is found.

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