De La Salle Monthly: A Catholic Magazine, Volumes 5-6 |
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appeared Archbishop asked beautiful become better Bishop brother brought called Catholic cause child Christian Church close dear death desire earth entered expression eyes face faith father fear feel France friends gave girl give given hand happy head heard heart Heaven holy honor hope hour human interest Irish Italy Jesuits kind King knew lady land learned leave less light live look means ment mind morning mother nature never night noble once passed poor present priest received religion religious rest seemed side sister society soon soul speak spirit success suffering tell things thought tion took true truth turned voice whole York young
Popular passages
Page 108 - For me, my heart that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the juggler's leap, Would now its wearied vision close • — • Would, childlike, on His love repose Who " giveth His beloved sleep." And friends ! — dear friends ! — When it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let one, most loving of you all, Say " Not a tear must o'er her fall " —
Page 131 - Ah God, for a man with heart, head, hand, Like some of the simple great ones gone For ever and ever by, One still strong man in a blatant land, Whatever they call him, what care I, Aristocrat, democrat, autocrat — one Who can rule and dare not lie.
Page 108 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 107 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved?
Page 142 - Play on, play on ; I am with you there, In the midst of your merry ring ; I can feel the thrill of the daring jump, And the rush of the breathless swing. I hide with you in the fragrant hay, And I whoop the smothered call, And my feet slip up on the seedy floor, And I care not for the fall.
Page 127 - He is a man speaking to men — a man, it is true, endowed with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind...
Page 62 - In my poor mind it is most sweet to muse Upon the days gone by ; to act in thought Past seasons o'er, and be again a child ; To sit in fancy on the turf-clad slope, Down which the child would roll ; to pluck gay flowers, Make posies in the sun, which the child's hand, (Childhood offended soon, soon reconciled,) Would throw away, and...
Page 108 - O earth, so full of dreary noises ! O men, with wailing in your voices ! O delved gold, the wailers heap! O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! God strikes a silence through you all, And giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 249 - A remarkable circumstance in this case was, that after these experiments he had no distinct recollection of his dreams, but only a confused feeling of oppression or fatigue ; and used to tell his friends that he .was sure they had been playing some trick upon him.
Page 190 - KIND hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the blossoms, Kind deeds are the fruits; Love is the sweet sunshine That warms into life, For only in darkness Grow hatred and strife.