The Amulet: A Christian and Literary Remembrancer

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S.C. Hall
Frederick Westley and A.H. Davis, 1833 - Всего страниц: 318
 

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Стр. 186 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Стр. 73 - Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; 'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man.
Стр. 74 - ... there is all nature cries aloud Through all her works,) he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy. But when ! or where ! — This world was made for Caesar.
Стр. 189 - scapes in the imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And with it all my travel's history.
Стр. 74 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
Стр. 216 - And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him.
Стр. 73 - The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me ; But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us, (And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue, And that which he delights in must be happy.
Стр. 221 - And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust.
Стр. 214 - Their notion of its perfect rest. A convent, even a hermit's cell, Would break the silence of this dell : It is not quiet, is not ease ; But something deeper far than these : The separation that is here Is of the grave ; and of austere Yet happy feelings of the dead : And, therefore, was it rightly said That Ossian, last of all his race ! Lies buried in this lonely place.
Стр. 198 - Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father and of my mother.

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