The weary Body, longing for repose, On the gained level of the day’s ascent, Halts for the night and pitches there its tent.
ABRAHAM COLESThe grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
More Abraham Coles Quotes
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O most illustrious of the days of time! Day full of joy and benison to earth When Thou wast born, sweet Babe of Bethlehem!
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No counter proof can equal the force of that drawn from His attributes. It is an indecency and a calumny to impute to Christ conduct which requires apology.
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The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
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O loving woman, man’s fulfillment, sweet, Completing him not otherwise complete! How void and useless the sad remnant left Were he of her, his nobler part, bereft.
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Fling out, fling out, with cheer and shout, To all the winds of Our Country’s Banner!
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I value science–none can prize it more, It gives ten thousand motives to adore: Be it religious, as it ought to be, The heart it humbles, and it bows the knee.
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When hands clasped hands, and lips to lips were pressed, And the heart’s secret was at once confessed?
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On eyes that watch as well as eyes that weep Descends the solemn mystery of sleep, Toiling and climbing to the very close
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Within a bony labrinthean cave, Reached by the pulse of the aerial wave, This sibyl, sweet, and Mystic Sense is found, Muse, that presides o’er all the Powers of Sound.
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The power to bind and loose to Truth is given: The mouth that speaks it is the mouth of Heaven
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Death separates, but it also unites. It reunites whom it separates.
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Through the long lapse of ages, that so there might be An asylum for all in the Land of the Free.
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We hail the return of the day of thy birth, Fair Columbia! washed by the waves of two oceans Where men from the farthest dominions of earth Rear altars to Freedom, and pay their devotions;
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O, beautiful and grand, My own, my native land! Of thee I boast: Great empire of the west, The dearest and the best, Made up of all the rest, I love thee most.
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Thee, Son Beloved! of plural Unity Essential part, made flesh that mad’st all worlds.
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