FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48  
49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   >>   >|  
e deep I lay me down in peace to sleep; Secure I rest upon the wave, For thou, O Lord! hast power to save. I know thou wilt not slight my call, For thou dost mark the sparrow's fall; And calm and peaceful shall I sleep, Rocked in the cradle of the deep. When in the dead of night I lie And gaze upon the trackless sky, The star-bespangled heavenly scroll, The boundless waters as they roll,-- I feel thy wondrous power to save From perils of the stormy wave: Rocked in the cradle of the deep, I calmly rest and soundly sleep. And such the trust that still were mine, Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine, Or though the tempest's fiery breath Roused me from sleep to wreck and death. In ocean cave, still safe with Thee The germ of immortality! And calm and peaceful shall I sleep, Rocked in the cradle of the deep. EMMA HART WILLARD. * * * * * GOOD-BYE. Good-bye, proud world, I'm going home: Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine. Long through thy weary crowds I roam; A river-ark on the ocean brine, Long I've been tossed like the driven foam, But now, proud world, I'm going home. Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; To Grandeur with his wise grimace; To upstart Wealth's averted eye; To supple Office, low and high; To crowded halls, to court and street; To frozen hearts and hasting feet; To those who go, and those who come; Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home. I'm going to my own hearth-stone, Bosomed in yon green hills alone,-- A secret nook in a pleasant land, Whose groves the frolic fairies planned; Where arches green, the livelong day, Echo the blackbird's roundelay, And vulgar feet have never trod A spot that is sacred to thought and God. O, when I am safe in my sylvan home, I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome; And when I am stretched beneath the pines, Where the evening star so holy shines, I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, At the sophist schools, and the learned clan; For what are they all in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet? RALPH WALDO EMERSON. * * * * * OUR GOD, OUR HELP IN AGES PAST. Our God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home,-- Under the shadow of thy throne
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48  
49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Rocked
 

cradle

 

stormy

 

peaceful

 

vulgar

 

roundelay

 
hearts
 
blackbird
 
hasting
 

frozen


hearth

 

pleasant

 

secret

 
groves
 

frolic

 

livelong

 

arches

 

fairies

 

planned

 

Bosomed


EMERSON

 

conceit

 

eternal

 

shadow

 
throne
 

shelter

 

beneath

 

stretched

 
evening
 

Greece


sacred

 

thought

 
sylvan
 

shines

 
learned
 

schools

 

sophist

 

street

 
perils
 

calmly


soundly
 
wondrous
 

boundless

 

waters

 

tempest

 

Though

 
scroll
 

heavenly

 

slight

 

Secure