The home naturalist

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Стр. 164 - When he made a decree for the rain and a way for the lightning of the thunder, then did he see it and declare it; he prepared it, yea, and searched it out.
Стр. 164 - Surely there is a vein for the silver, And a place for gold where they fine it. Iron is taken out of the earth, And brass is molten out of the stone.
Стр. 164 - The depth saith, It is not in me: And the sea saith, It is not with me. It cannot be gotten for gold, Neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof.
Стр. 178 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then, Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Стр. 164 - As for the earth, out of it cometh bread ; and under it is turned up as it were fire.
Стр. 115 - Meek creatures! the first mercy of the earth, veiling with hushed softness its dintless rocks; creatures full of pity, covering with strange and tender honor the scarred disgrace of ruin, — laying quiet finger on the trembling stones, to teach them rest.
Стр. 137 - Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?
Стр. 164 - It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof. It cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire. The gold and the crystal cannot equal it: and the exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold. No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls: for the price of wisdom is above rubies. The topaz of Ethiopia shall not equal it, neither shall it be valued with pure gold.
Стр. 115 - To them, slow-fingered, constant-hearted, is entrusted the weaving of the dark, eternal tapestries of the hills ; to them, slowpencilled, iris-dyed, the tender framing of their endless imagery.
Стр. 115 - ... as if the rock spirits could spin porphyry as we do glass, the traceries of intricate silver and fringes of amber, lustrous, arborescent, burnished through every fibre into fitful brightness, and glossy traverses of silken change, yet all subdued and pensive, and framed for simplest, sweetest offices of grace.

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