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Then once more the full tones of the organ sounded and the congregation rose and sang: "I lay in heaviest fetters, Thou com'st and set'st me free; I stood in shame and sorrow, Thou callest me to Thee; And lift'st me up to honor And giv'st me heavenly joys Which cannot be diminished By earthly scorn and noise." His mother had sung that at the very last.

Touch'd with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I languish hears my tale of symptoms, and blames the weather for the disorder of his nerves. Thou giv'st a portion of it sometimes to the roughest peasant who traverses the bleakest mountains; he finds the lacerated lamb of another's flock.

Harte was a parson, but apparently he did not bring the same unction into his agriculture as did the Rev. Robert Herrick to the husbandry of his Devonshire glebe, a century earlier. In Herrick's Thanksgiving to God for his House he sings: "Lord, 'tis thy plenty dropping hand That soils my land And giv'st me for my bushel sown Twice ten for one.

So she drank off the cup, and sweeping the strings of the lute, sang as follows: O thou, the noblest man of men that live in this our day, Whose equal none may boast himself in power and mightiness, O all unpeered in pride of place, to whom munificence Is as a birthright, Lord and King, whom all in all confess, Thou, that dost lord it, sovran-wise, o'er all the kings of earth And without grudging or reproach, giv'st bountiful largesse, God have thee ever in His guard, despite thine every foe, And be thy fortune ever bright with victory and success!

As there were several good voices among the household, the effect was extremely pleasing, but I was particularly gratified by the exaltation of heart and sudden sally of grateful feeling with which the worthy squire delivered one stanza, his eye glistening and his voice rambling out of all the bounds of time and tune: "'Tis Thou that crown'st my glittering hearth With guiltless mirth, And givest me Wassaile bowles to drink Spiced to the brink; Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand That soiles my land: And giv'st me for my bushell sowne, Twice ten for one."

I yield Thee all my hallowed powers, Thine only will I be, Contented if I may but know Thou giv'st Thyself to me. 'Why Should I? 'Thou saidst, What advantage will it be? What profit shall I have, if I be cleansed from my sin?

DUCHATEL. Sire, with the Duke of Burgundy make peace! 'Tis the sole outlet from destruction left! CHARLES. Thou giv'st this counsel, and thy blood alone Can ratify this peace. DUCHATEL. Here is my head. I oft have risked it for thee in the fight, And with a joyful spirit I, for thee, Would lay it down upon the block of death. Conciliate the duke!

Aware of the thunder's rattling roll, Of the winds and the waves when without control, Of the cries where the village shepherds stroll, Reply thou giv'st; Yet thou thyself, without one answering soul, A poet liv'st. Sometimes it was our simple hosts who led the conversation, which then, especially as they became at ease with us, always drifted more or less into the supernatural.

Yes, I shall welcome death As princes do some great ambassadors: I'll meet thy weapon half-way. 'Twas a manly blow! The next thou giv'st, murder some sucking infant; And then thou wilt be famous. So firmly has Webster wrought the character of this white devil, that we seem to see her before us as in a picture.

As there were several good voices among the household, the effect was extremely pleasing; but I was particularly gratified by the exaltation of heart, and sudden sally of grateful feeling, with which the worthy Squire delivered one stanza: his eyes glistening, and his voice rambling out of all the bounds of time and tune: "'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering hearth With guiltlesse mirth, And giv'st me wassaile bowles to drink, Spiced to the brink: Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand, That soiles my land; And giv'st me for my bushell sowne, Twice ten for one."