Psychic Poems

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Hicks-Judd Company, 1907 - 62 pages
 

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Page 54 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend t For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Page 62 - From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression.
Page 49 - Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust, (Since He who knows our need is just,) That somehow, somewhere, meet we must.
Page 51 - Time may come, when men With angels may participate, and find No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare ; And from these corporal nutriments, perhaps, Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit...
Page 46 - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Page 59 - I know not too well how I found my way home in the night. There were witnesses, cohorts about me, to left and to right, Angels, powers, the unuttered, unseen, the alive, the aware...
Page 52 - Thou art ! directing, guiding all, Thou art ! Direct my understanding then to Thee ; Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart ; Though but an atom midst immensity, Still I am something, fashioned by Thy hand ! I hold a middle rank, 'twixt heaven and earth, On the last verge of mortal being stand, Close to the realm where angels have their birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit land...
Page 54 - Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou see'st — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous...
Page 48 - Celestial voices Hymn it unto our souls : according harps, By angel fingers touched when the mild stars Of morning sang together, sound forth still The song of our great immortality...
Page 56 - Daily the bending skies solicit man, The seasons chariot him from this exile, The rainbow hours bedeck his glowing chair, The storm-winds urge the heavy weeks along, Suns haste to set, that so remoter lights Beckon the wanderer to his vaster home.

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