Instance Results

The hour of freedom! come it must

Author: W. L. Garrison Hymnal: PLES1857 #101 (1857)

How shall we praise thee, Lord of light?

Author: Bowring Hymnal: PLES1857 #102 (1857)

How blest is he whose tranquil mind

Hymnal: PLES1857 #103 (1857)

O thou true life of all that live!

Hymnal: PLES1857 #104 (1857)

O Father! humbly we repose

Author: Gaskell Hymnal: PLES1857 #105 (1857)

Author: Tennyson Hymnal: PLES1857 #106 (1857) First Line: How pure in heart and sound in head Lyrics: 1 How pure in heart and sound in head, With what divine affections bold, Should be the man whose thought would hold An hour's communion with the dead. 2 In vain shalt thou, or any, call The spirits from their golden day, Except like them, thou too canst say My spirit is at peace with all. 3 They haunt the silence of the breast, Imagination calm and fair, The memory like a cloudless air, The conscience as a sea at rest: 4 But when the heart is full of din, And doubt beside the portal waits, They can but listen at the gates, And hear the household jar within. Languages: English

Spirit Presence

Author: Tennyson Hymnal: PLES1857 #107 (1857) First Line: Do we indeed desire the dead Lyrics: 1 Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side? Is there no baseness we would hide? No inner vileness that we dread? 2 Shall he for whose applause we strove, We had such reverence for his name, See with clear eye some hidden shame, And we be lessened in his love? [5*] 3 We wrong the grave with fears untrue; Shall love be blamed for want of faith? There must be wisdom with great death; The dead shall look me through and through. 4 Be near us when we climb or fall: Ye watch, like God, the rolling hours With larger, other eyes than ours, To make allowance for us all. Languages: English

Universal Good

Author: Tennyson Hymnal: PLES1857 #108 (1857) First Line: O, yet we trust that somehow, good Lyrics: 1 O, yet we trust that somehow, good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt and taints of blood: 2 That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete: 3 That not a worm is cloven in vain; That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. 4 Behold! we know not anything; We can but trust that good shall fail At last,—far off,—at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. Languages: English