Immortelles, a souvenir of departed relatives and friends: [verses] selected by the compiler of 'The birthday motto book'.

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R P H
1876
 

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Page 22 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Page 1 - One family we dwell in Him, One Church above, beneath, Though now divided by the stream, The narrow stream, of death : One army of the living God, To His command we bow ; Part of His host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
Page 7 - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 21 - Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There is no Death! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 16 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
Page 25 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Page 28 - Lord, by thee. 2 Thou art the Truth, thy word alone True wisdom can impart ; Thou only canst inform the mind And purify the heart. 3 Thou art the Life, the rending tomb Proclaims thy conquering arm, And those who put their trust in thee Nor death nor hell shall harm. 4 Thou art the Way...
Page 16 - Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace : Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
Page 24 - Friend after friend departs ; Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end.
Page 22 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For Thou, O Lord, art with me still : Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade.

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