The choice works of the Rt. Rev. John England, Bishop of Charleston, S.C.: with memoir, memorials, notes, and full index, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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P.J. Kenedy, 1900 - American essays
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Page 183 - Your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language I possess.
Page 464 - ... the gospel of the circumcision was unto Peter, (for he that wrought effectually in Peter to the apostleship of the circumcision, the same was mighty in me toward the Gentiles,) and when James Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given unto me, they gave to me and Barnabas the right hands of fellowship, that we should go unto the heathen, and they unto the circumcision.
Page 472 - But, as it is written, To whom he was not spoken of, they shall see: and they that have not heard shall understand.
Page 463 - Now when the apostles which were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John...
Page 48 - Let Fate do her worst ; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled ! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Page 74 - A fixed figure, for the hand of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at, Yet I could bear that too ; well, very well : But there, where I have garner'd up my heart ; Where either I must live, or bear no life ; The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence...
Page 143 - Anchises' line, The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.
Page 154 - With incest some their daughters' bed profan'd: All dar'd the worst of ills, and, what they dar'd, attain'd. Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, And throats of brass, inspir'd with iron lungs, I could not half those horrid crimes repeat, Nor half the punishments those crimes have met. But let us haste our voyage to pursue...
Page 38 - ... and this soothing hope I draw from the dearest and tenderest recollections of my life, from the remembrance of those Attic nights, and those refections of the gods which we have spent with those admired and respected and beloved companions who have gone before us; over whose ashes the most precious tears of Ireland have been shed...
Page 39 - Yes, my good Lord, I see you do not forget them. I see their sacred forms passing in sad review before your memory.

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