The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade; The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade; The Sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way, The Moon and Stars, their Master's… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
The Son of God goes forth to war,A kingly crown to gain;His blood red banner streams afar:Who follows in His train?Who best can drink… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee. — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
When the veil of death has been drawn between us and the objects of our regard, how quick-sighted do we become to their merits,… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,As false and fleeting as 't is fair. — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid. Star of the east the horizon… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
Eternity has no gray hairs. The flowers fade, the heart withers, people grow old and die, the world lies down in the sepulchre of… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
With drooping bells of clearest blue Thou didst attract my childish view, Almost resembling The azure butterflies that flew Where on the heath thy… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
Remember that every guilty compliance with the humors of the world, every sinful indulgence of our own passions, is laying up cares and fears… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
We deny our Lord whenever, like Demas, we through love of this present world forsake the course of duty which Christ has plainly pointed… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade; The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade; The… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile: In vain with lavish kindness… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade, The Autumn droop in Winter, the birds forsake the shade; The winds be… — Reginald Heber Copy Share Image
