A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
Morning.
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A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||
Morning.
When the arousing call of Morn
Breaks o'er the hills, and Day, new-born,
Comes smiling from the purple East,
And the pure streams of liquid light
Bathe all the earth—renewed and bright,
Uprising from its dream of rest—
Breaks o'er the hills, and Day, new-born,
Comes smiling from the purple East,
And the pure streams of liquid light
Bathe all the earth—renewed and bright,
Uprising from its dream of rest—
O how delightful then, how sweet,
Again to feel life's pulses beat;
Again life's kindly warmth to prove;
To drink anew of pleasure's spring;
Again our matin song to sing
To the great Cause of light and love!
Again to feel life's pulses beat;
Again life's kindly warmth to prove;
To drink anew of pleasure's spring;
Again our matin song to sing
To the great Cause of light and love!
Thou! who didst wake me first from nought,
And led my heaven-aspiring thought
To some faint, feeble glimpse of Thee:
Thou! who did'st touch my slumbering heart,
With Thine own hand—and did'st impart
A portion of Thy deity:
And led my heaven-aspiring thought
To some faint, feeble glimpse of Thee:
Thou! who did'st touch my slumbering heart,
With Thine own hand—and did'st impart
A portion of Thy deity:
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O not in vain to me be given
The joys of earth—the hopes of heaven;
O not in vain may I receive
My Master's talents—but, subdued
And tutored by the soul of good,
To God—to bliss—to virtue live!
The joys of earth—the hopes of heaven;
O not in vain may I receive
My Master's talents—but, subdued
And tutored by the soul of good,
To God—to bliss—to virtue live!
Heaven's right-lined path may I discern,
Nor led by pride or folly, turn
A handbreadth from the onward road;
Fight the good fight—the foe subdue,
And wear the heavenly garland too—
A garland from the hand of God!
Nor led by pride or folly, turn
A handbreadth from the onward road;
Fight the good fight—the foe subdue,
And wear the heavenly garland too—
A garland from the hand of God!
A memorial volume of sacred poetry | ||