The Eclectic Review, Том 12;Том 30

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Samuel Greatheed, Daniel Parken, Theophilus Williams, Josiah Conder, Thomas Price, Jonathan Edwards Ryland, Edwin Paxton Hood
C. Taylor, 1819
 

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Стр. 132 - And when the people saw what Paul had done, they lifted up their voices, saying in the speech of Lycaonia, The gods are come down to us, in the likeness of men.
Стр. 385 - This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God, having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.
Стр. 591 - Lord, was not this my saying when I was yet in my country? Therefore I fled before unto Tarshish; for I knew that thou art a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness, and repentest thee of the evil.
Стр. 149 - No more — no more — oh ! never more on me The freshness of the heart can fall like dew, Which out of all the lovely things we see Extracts emotions beautiful and new, Hived in our bosoms like the bag o' the bee, Think'st thou the honey with those objects grew?
Стр. 464 - But he turned, and rebuked them, and said, Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them.
Стр. 151 - Away, away, my steed and I, Upon the pinions of the wind. All human dwellings left behind ; We sped like meteors through the sky...
Стр. 128 - I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.
Стр. 435 - ... stone, stood glimmering in the moonlight, like the sheeted spectre of some huge giant. A wilder, or more disconsolate dwelling, it was perhaps difficult to conceive. The sombrous and heavy sound of the billows, successively dashing against the rocky beach at a profound distance beneath, was to the ear what the landscape was to the eye — a symbol of unvaried and monotonous melancholy, not unmingled with horror.
Стр. 575 - Now, Spring returns : but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known ; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.
Стр. 65 - Suffices me — her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears. The dragon's wing, the magic ring, I shall not covet for my dower, If I along that lowly way With sympathetic heart may stray, And with a soul of power.

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