The Dublin Review (Google eBook)

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Nicholas Patrick Wiseman
Burns and Oates, 1886
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Page 347 - Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive.
Page 346 - For I reckon, that the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us.
Page 282 - But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, homeward serenely she walked with GOD'S benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.
Page 9 - Good," which, I think, was written by your father. It had been so little regarded by a former possessor that several leaves of it were torn out, but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking as to have an influence on my conduct through life; for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good than on any other kind of reputation ; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book.
Page 286 - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Page 11 - THE condition of England, on which many pamphlets are now in the course of publication, and many thoughts unpublished are going on in every reflective head, is justly regarded as one of the most ominous, and withal one of the strangest, ever seen in this world. England is full of wealth, of multifarious produce, supply for human want in every kind ; yet England is dying of inanition.
Page 350 - Workers of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains. You have a world to gain.
Page 279 - I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze With forms of Saints and holy men who died, Here martyred and hereafter glorified; And the great Rose upon its leaves displays Christ's Triumph, and the angelic roundelays, With splendor upon splendor multiplied; And Beatrice again at Dante's side No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise.
Page 277 - And I saw in a vision how far and fleet That fatal bullet went speeding forth, Till it reached a town in the distant North, Till it reached a house in a sunny street, Till it reached a heart that ceased to beat Without a murmur, without a cry ; And a bell was tolled, in that far-off town, For one who had passed from cross to crown, And the neighbors wondered that she should die.
Page 293 - Turn, turn, my wheel ! All life is brief; What now is bud will soon be leaf, What now is leaf will soon decay ; The wind blows east, the wind blows west ; The blue eggs in the robin's nest Will soon have wings and beak and breast, And flutter and fly away.

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