Thoughts for holy days and vigils, original and selected [signed J.D.M.].

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1883 - 200 pages
 

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Page 163 - Go, Soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless arrant: Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the court, it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church it shows What's good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell potentates, they live Acting by others...
Page 151 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard...
Page 182 - Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? Of labour you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come.
Page 179 - AND is there care in heaven ? And is there love In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, That may compassion of their evils move ? There is : else much more wretched were the case Of men than beasts. But O ! th...
Page 151 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Page 182 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Page 35 - MY soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars ; There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend And, O my soul awake ! Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake ; If thou can'st get but thither, There grows the flower of peace, The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges, For none can thee secure,...
Page 135 - Blessing she is — God made her so — And deeds of weekday holiness Fall from her noiseless as the snow, Nor hath she ever chanced to know That aught were easier than to bless.
Page 87 - But thou would'st not alone Be saved, my father! alone Conquer and come to thy goal, Leaving the rest in the wild.
Page 135 - Yet in herself she dwelleth not, Although no home were half so fair ; No simplest duty is forgot, Life hath no dim and lowly spot That doth not in her sunshine share. She doeth little kindnesses, Which most leave undone, or despise ; For naught that sets one heart at ease, And giveth happiness or peace, Is low-esteemed in her eyes.

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