The Holy Cross Purple, Volumes 11-12

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College of the Holy Cross, 1900 - Catholic universities and colleges

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Page 275 - Lo ! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Forgives : do thou for thine own soul the rest.
Page 183 - You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage ; and that all the walls, With painted imagery, had said at once — "Jesu preserve thee ! welcome, Bolingbroke !" Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus — " I thank you, countrymen : " And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
Page 207 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Page 75 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Page 273 - One seem'd all dark and red— a tract of sand, And some one pacing there alone, Who paced for ever in a glimmering land, Lit with a low large moon.
Page 97 - O, Woman of the Piercing Wail, Who mournest o'er yon mound of clay With sigh and groan, Would God thou wert among the Gael ! Thou would'st not then from day to day Weep thus alone. 'Twere long before, around a grave In green Tirconnell, one could find This loneliness; Near where Beann-Boirche's banners wave Such grief as thine could ne'er have pined Compassionless.
Page 98 - Look down upon our dreary state, And through the ages that may still Roll sadly on, Watch thou o'er hapless Erin's fate, And shield at least from darker ill The blood of...
Page 271 - India and its inhabitants were not to him, as to most Englishmen, mere names and abstractions, but a real country and a real people. The burning sun; the strange vegetation of the palm and the...
Page 22 - ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest...
Page 20 - OFT have I seen at some cathedral door A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er ; Far off the noises of the world retreat ; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishable roar. So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs...

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