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Página 149 - I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea -shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Página 100 - And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice.
Página 41 - E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die.
Página 114 - The stately-sailing swan Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale, And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier-isle, Protective of his young.
Página 21 - He took the candle in his hand and walked toward the bed; His quivering lips gave token of the grief he'd fain conceal, And see, his wife has joined him — the stricken couple kneel: With hearts bowed down by sadness, they humbly ask of Him, In heaven once more to meet again their own poor little Jim.
Página 80 - Yes, Edward, yes," replied the maid ; " I see the bird on yonder tree." The poor boy sighed, and gently said, " Sister, I wish that I could see. " The flowers you say are very fair, And bright green leaves are on the trees, And pretty birds are singing there ; How beautiful for one who sees...
Página 8 - ONE step, and then another, And the longest walk is ended ; One stitch, and then another, And the largest rent is mended One brick upon another, And the highest wall is made ; One flake upon another, And the deepest snow is laid.
Página 20 - Soft fell these words from him — "Mother, the angels do so smile, And beckon Little Jim. "I have no pain, dear mother, now, But oh! I am so dry; Just moisten poor Jim's lips again, And, mother, don't you cry.
Página 80 - Edward, yes," replied the maid, " I see the bird on yonder tree." The poor boy sighed, and gently said : " Sister, I wish that I could see!" " The flowers, you say, are very fair, And bright green leaves are on the trees, And pretty birds are singing there: How beautiful for one who sees...