Temple Bar, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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Ward and Lock, 1861
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Page 470 - They live no longer in the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language, still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names...
Page 197 - And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Page 197 - ... to give light upon the earth, and to rule over the day, and over the night, to be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and for years.
Page 522 - To make the past present, to bring the distant near, to place us in the society of a great man or on the eminence which overlooks the field of a mighty battle, to invest with the reality of human flesh and blood beings whom we are too much inclined to consider as personified qualities in an allegory, to call up our ancestors before us with all their peculiarities of language, manners, and garb, to show us over their houses, to seat us at their tables, to rummage their oldfashioned wardrobes, to explain...
Page 197 - And I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven: this sore travail hath God given to the sons of man to be exercised therewith.
Page 470 - ... need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend ; and to the lover Yonder they move ; from yonder visible sky Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, And Venus who brings every thing that's fair.
Page 167 - Small griefs find tongues : full casks are ever found To give (if any, yet) but little sound. Deep waters noiseless are ; and this we know, That chiding streams betray small depth below.
Page 166 - A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility : Do more bewitch me, than when art Is too precise in every part.
Page 169 - To his book's end this last line he'd have placed: Jocund his Muse was, but his life was chaste.
Page 169 - Writ in my wild unhallowed times ; For every sentence, clause, and word, That's not inlaid with thee, my Lord, Forgive me, God, and blot each line Out of my book that is not thine. But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one Worthy thy benediction ; That one of all the rest shall be The glory of my work and me.

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