The Guardian, Volume 4

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H. Harbaugh, 1853 - Conduct of life

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Page 150 - Is it far away in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand — Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? Not there ; not there, my child.
Page 76 - Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. 15 Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away.
Page 144 - He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth...
Page 324 - And with them the Being Beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Page 354 - And it shall be that thou shalt drink of the brook ; and I have commanded the ravens to feed thee there.
Page 28 - Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle and the crane and the swallow observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment of the Lord.
Page 150 - Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ? — Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?" — "Not there, not there, my child! "Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair — Sorrow and death may not enter there : Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, — It is there, it is there,...
Page 25 - If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.
Page 160 - The Reaper said, and smiled ; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Page 287 - The world can never give The bliss for which we sigh ; 'Tis not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die.

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