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Whence camest thou ? Whither goest thou? I, | The ruminant's beatitude-content, subdued
Chewing the cud of knowledge, with no care With awe of mine own being, thus sit still,
For germs of life within-then will I say: Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill,
• Thou art not caged, but fitly stalld in clay!' Whose dry November-grasses dew-bestrew'd
Emily Pfeiffer. Mirror a million suns. That sun, so bright, 3198. SOUL. The: a prisoner. Passes, as thou must pass, Soul, into night!
In the body's prison so she lies, Art thou afraid, who solitary hast trod
As through the body's prison she must look, A path I know not, from a source to a bourn
Her divers powers of sense to exercise Both which I know not? fear'st thou to return
By gath'ring notes out of the world's great book. Alone, even as thou camest alone, to God ?
Davies. D. M. Muloch.
| Even so the soul in this contracted state, 3195. SOUL. Joys of the
Confined to these strait instruments of sense,
More dull and narrowly doth operate: When in heaven she shall His essence see,
At this hole hears, the sight may ray from thence, This is her sov'reign good, and perfect bliss : | Here tastes, there smells; but when she's gone Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finish'd be : from hence, Her joys are full, her motions rest in this. Like naked lamp, she is one shining sphere,
Davies. And round about hath perfect cognizance The joys of sense to mental joys are mean;
Whatever in the horizon doth appear: Sense on the present only feeds; the soul She is one orb of sense; all eye, all touch, all ear. On past and present forages for joy ;
Henry More. 'Tis hers, by retrospect, through time to range,
| 3199. SOUL. The: a stranger. And forward, time's great sequel to survey.
Our souls but like unhappy strangers come
From heaven, their country, to this world's bad 3196. SOUL. Struggles of the
coast; With stammering lips and insufficient sound
| They land, then straight are backward bound for I strive and struggle to deliver right
home, The music of my nature, day and night
And many are in storms of passion lost ! With dream and thought and feeling interwound,
They long with danger sail through life's vext seas, And inly answering all the senses round
In bodies as in vessels full of leaks ; With octaves of a mystic depth and height,
Walking in veins, their narrow galleries, Which step out grandly to the infinite
| Shorter than walks of seamen on their decks. From the dark edges of the sensual ground !
Davenant. This song of soul I struggle to outbear
3200. SOUL. The departed Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
HERE is the house, And utter all myself into the air.
Empty and lone; But if I did it, -as the thunder-roll
Where is the home of that which is goneBreaks its own cloud, -my flesh would perish there, | Out in the regions of boundless blank space, Before that dread apocalypse of soul.
Floating and floating, no shape, no place ?
Mrs Brovning. Or did it gather its wealth and remove 3197. SOUL. The: a Bird of Passage.
To the home up above?
All's still in the house. • My soul is like some eager-born bird, that hath A restless prescience-howsoever won
Gone from its home, Of a broad pathway leading to the sun,
And none knoweth where; With promptings of an oft-reproved faith
Unseen it pass'd the invisible air.
Nothing to mark that the dweller is reft
God grant that the soul that wander'd away
Be not homeless to-day : And only in the Infinite sees rest.
But here is the house. Sad soul ! if ever thy desire be bent
Out of its house Or broken to thy doom, and made to share
How strange it must be !
Now to itself, the great mystery,
Think it a birth: and when thou go'st to die, "The intangible thing, that's like nothing we know Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to bliss. That we should shudder at, come to us so
Davies. Here with us yesterday, gone with a touch,
Time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain,
The body, not the mind; nor can control
Th' immortal vigour, or abate the soul.
The soul, secure in her existence, smiles Murmuring, “Some day thou, too, must go.'
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point; Ah, me! Thrust forth to the world outside,
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Shall I not find it dreary and wide?
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years;
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds!
Addison. From its windows I bound,
It must be so! Plato, thou reason'st well: All I can measure of what is beyond.
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, Here has been written all of my past
This longing after immortality ? It is dear by memories first and last;
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror Old as life to me! What shall I do
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul When I must go too
Back on herself, and startles at destruction? Out of my house?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, Can I miss the new house
And intimates eternity to man. --Addison.
Her ceaseless fight, though devious, speaks her Valleys of nothingness 'twixt height and height,
nature "Terrible blanks in the great Infinite.
Of subtler essence than the trodden clod; Room for worlds to go down; where a soul might For human weal, Heaven husbands all events, be toss'd
Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. With its anchorage lost,
Yeung. So far from its home!
Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames are Into Thy house,
frail, Lord, take us straight,
Our souls immortal, though our limbs deciy; Lest we be left in the darkness to wait;
Though darken'd in this poor life by a veil Lest we be lost in realms without sun,
Of suffering, dying matter, we shall play And wander for ever where mansion is none,
In truth's eternal sunbeams; on the way
To Heaven's high capitol our cars shall roll;
The temple of the Power whom all obey,
That is the mark we tend to, for the soul
Percial 3201. SOUL. The : immortal.
The soul, of origin Divine, HEAVEN waxeth old, and all the spheres above
God's glorious image, freed from clay, Shall one day faint, and their swift motion stay;
In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, And time itself, in time, shall cease to move;
A star of day.
The sun is but a spark of fire,
A transient meteor in the sky;
The soul, immortal as its Sire, Her strength would with the body's strength decay;
Shall never die But when the body's strongest sinews slake,
James Montgomery. Then is the soul most active, quick, and gay.
Davies. 3202. SOUL. The: slumbering.
Who is sure he hath a soul, unless
No quick response ; I tremble, yet I speak
Or traced with timid pen ; yet oft they fell
Until the tender blade sprang up to tell That not in vain her labour had been spent ; Then with new faith and hope more bravely on she
went.-- Frances Ridley Havergal.
And by deeds praise it? He who doth not this May lodge an innate soul, but 'tis not his.
Donne. 3203. SOUL. The: unknown. As the sharpest eye discerneth nought
Except the sunbeams in the air do shine, So the best soul, with her reflecting thought, Sees not herself without some light Divine.
Davies. Thou that hast fashion's twice this soul of ours,
So that she is by double title Thine ; Thou only know'st her nature and her powers,
Her subtile form Thou only canst define. We that acquaint ourselves with every zone,
And pass the tropics and behold each pole ; When we come home are to ourselves unknown, And unacquainted still with our own soul.
Davies. 3204. SOUL. Value of the
3206. SOWING. Fruits of
Are we sowing seeds of goodness?
They shall blossom bright ere long. Are we sowing seeds of discord ?
They shall ripen into wrong. Are we sowing seeds of honour?
They shall bring forth golden grain. Are we sowing seeds of falsehood ? We shall yet reap bitter pain.
Whatsoe'er our sowing be,
Reaping, we its fruit must see. We can never be too careful
What the seed our hands shall sow; Love from love is sure to ripen,
Hate from hate is sure to grow. Seeds of good or ill we scatter
Heedlessly along our way; But a glad or grievous fruitage
Waits us at the harvest day.
What is the thing of greatest price
The whole creation round? That which was lost in paradise,
That which in Christ is found,
The soul of man-Jehovah's breath!
That keeps two worlds at strife; Hell moves beneath to work its death,
Heaven stoops to give it life.
3207. SPEECH. Eloquence of
God to reclaim it did not spare
His well-beloved Son; Jesus, to save it, deign'd to bear
The sins of all in one. The Holy Spirit seal'd the plan,
And pledged the blood Divine To ransom every soul of man;
That blood was shed for mine.
And is this treasure borne below
In earthly vessels frail ?
Till flesh and spirit fail ?
This knowledge to obtain,
But everlasting gain.-Montgomery.
How shall we learn to sway the minds of men
3205. SOWER. The 'Such as I have I sow, it is not much,'
Said one who loved the Master of the field; Only a quiet word, a gentle touch
Upon the hidden harp-strings, which may yield
See how Time, consoling,
Dries the saddest tears;
Pass in gentle rain,
Adelaide A. Practer.
And blow, with puffing breath, a struggling light,
broke, And all our boasted fire is lost in smoke.-Congreve.
3212. STARS. Mystery of the YE stars ! which are the poetry of heaven;
If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires—'tis to be forgiven,
That in our aspirations to be great,
A beauty and a mystery, and create
selves a star.-Byron.
3213. STARS. Order of the
There they stand, Shining in order, like a living hymn Written in light.-Willis.
3209. SPIRITS. Traits of
THEY miss the truth who meditate that death, Or that which follows after death, can change The native idealities of men. These in the saved and lost alike remain Immutable for ever. There is nought In the unloosing of the mortal tent To alter or transform immortal minds. The gentle still are gentle, and the strong Are ever strong. Innumerable traits Each from the rest distinguish. It is true There lies a gulf impassable betwixt Salvation and perdition, heaven and hell; But oh! the almost infinite degrees Betwixt the lost and lost.-Bickersteth.
Can wealth give happiness ? look around and see
The splendours of our rank and state
3214. STARS. Progress of the
THE sad and solemn night
The glorious host of light
go. Day, too, hath many a star To grace his gorgeous reign, as bright as they: t.
Through the blue fields afar, Unseen, they follow in his flaming way: Many a bright lingerer, as the eve grows dim, Tells what a radiant troop arose and set with him.
Bryant. 3215. STARS. Shining forth of the THEY are all up—the innumerable stars That hold their place in heaven. My eyes have been Searching the pearly depths through which they
spring Like beautiful creations.-Willis.
3211. STARS. Invocation to the
SHINE, ye stars of heaven,
On a world of pain !
All our hoarded grain ;
Every stately shrine,
Every dream divine !
On the rolling years!
3216. STARS. Suggestiveness of the Oh what a confluence of ethereal fires, From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of heaven, Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! | Nor tarries there ; I feel it at my heart. - Young.
And for the heavens' wide circuit, let it speak The Maker's high magnificence. -Milton.
He made the stars, And set them in the firmament of heaven, T' illuminate the earth and rule the night.
Milton. These great orbs thus radically bright, Primitive founts, and origins of light, Enliven worlds denied to human sight.-Prior.
But the day is spent,
Count o'er those lamps of quenchless light
· Mrs Hemans.
3221. STARS. Watching the
LOOK how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings; Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins.
Shakespeare. Ye quenchless stars ! so eloquently bright, Untroubled sentries of the shadowy night, While half the world is lapp'd in downy dreams, And round the lattice creep your midnight beams, How sweet to gaze upon your placid eyes, In lambent beauty looking from the skies !
Robert Montgomery. Like the Chaldean, he could watch the stars Till he had peopled them with beings bright As their own beams.—Byron.
3222. STATE. Constituents of a
What constitutes a state ? Not high-raised battlement or labour'd mound,
Thick wall or moated gate; Not cities proud with spires and turrets crown'd;
Not bays and broad-arm'd ports, | Where, laughing at the storin, rich navies ride;