The Young Lady's Counsellor: Or, Outlines and Illustrations of the Sphere, the Duties and the Dangers of Young Women

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Carlton & Porter, 1851 - Всего страниц: 251

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Стр. 97 - If I wash myself with snow water, And make my hands never so clean; Yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, And mine own clothes shall abhor me.
Стр. 147 - At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me: I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge.
Стр. 103 - And from that hour did I with earnest thought Heap knowledge from forbidden mines of lore ; Yet nothing that my tyrants knew or taught I cared to learn, but from that secret store Wrought linked armour for my soul, before It might walk forth to war among mankind ; Thus power and hope were strengthened more and more Within me, till there came upon my mind A sense of loneliness, a thirst with which I pined.
Стр. 38 - Once more upon the waters ! yet once more ! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider. Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead ! Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed.
Стр. 86 - Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Стр. 169 - Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel : but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.
Стр. 95 - rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep.
Стр. 155 - Call up thy noble spirit; Rouse all the generous energy of virtue ; And with the strength of heaven-endued man, Repel the hideous foe. Be great ; be valiant. O, if thou couldst ! e'en shrouded as thou art In all the sad infirmities of nature, What a most noble creature wouldst thou be ! De Mon. Ay, if I could : alas! alas! I cannot Jane.
Стр. 171 - Yet must I think less wildly:— I have thought Too long and darkly; till my brain became, In its own eddy boiling and o'erwrought, A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame: And thus, untaught in youth my heart to tame, My springs of life were poisoned.
Стр. 138 - The brave man is not he who feels no fear, . For that were stupid and irrational, But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.

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