Mary Elizabeth Towneley (in Religion Sister Marie Des Saints Anges): Provincial of the English Province of The Sisters of Notre Dame of Namur : a Memoir

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Burns Oates and Washbourne, 1924 - Towneley, Mary Elizabeth, 1846-1922 - 381 pages
 

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Page 368 - O Paradise, O Paradise, The world is growing old ; Who would not be at rest and free Where love is never cold ? Where loyal hearts and true, etc.
Page 38 - My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, My crop of corn is but a field of tares, And all my good is but vain hope of gain; The day is past, and yet I saw no sun, And now I live, and now my life is done.
Page 36 - No threshold was of force to brave our entry. Thus we lived, and wanted nothing we could wish for ; and God knows what less in my head than matters of state.
Page 35 - I made no small account, whose friendship hath brought me to this; he told me the whole matter, I cannot deny, as they had laid it down to be done ; but I always thought it impious, and denied to be a dealer in it ; but the regard of my friend caused me to be a man in whom the old proverb was verified; I was silent, and so consented.
Page 38 - The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green, My youth is past, and yet I am but young, I saw the world, and yet I was not seen ; My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun, And now I live, and now my life is done...
Page 321 - Charge the rich of this world not to be highminded, nor to trust in the uncertainty of riches, but in the living God, (who giveth us abundantly all things to enjoy,) 18 To do good, to be rich in good works, to give easily, to communicate to others...
Page 36 - My dear countrymen, my sorrows may be your joy, yet mix your smiles with tears, and pity my case; / am descended from a house, from two hundred years before the Conquest, never stained till this my misfortune. I have a wife and one child; my wife Agnes, my dear wife, and there's my grief- — and six sisters left in my hand — my poor servants, I know, their master being taken, were dispersed; for aU which 1 do most heartily grieve.
Page 167 - The lives we need to have written for us are of the people whom the world has not thought of, — far less heard of, — who are yet doing the most of its work, and of whom we may learn how it can best be done.
Page 36 - I was fallen, I went to Sir John Peters in Essex, and appointed my horses should meet me at London, intending to go down into the country. I came to London, and then heard that all was bewrayed; whereupon, like Adam, we fled into the woods to hide ourselves.
Page 259 - There are rare epochs in the history of the world when in a few raging years the character, the destiny, of the whole race is determined for unknown ages. This is one. The winter wheat is being sown. It is better, it is surer, it is more bountiful in its harvest than when it is sown in the soft springtime.

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