De Clifford, or, the Constant man, Volume 2 (Google eBook)

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Henry Colburn, 1841 - English fiction
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Page 187 - Happy the man*, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire.
Page 33 - As made the things more rich; their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Page 270 - True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noise ; it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's self ; and, in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few select companions...
Page 144 - Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a : A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Page 163 - He rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place ; His pavilion round about Him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.
Page 17 - Thou, nature, art my goddess ; to thy law My services are bound : Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom ; and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me, For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines Lag of a brother? Why bastard?
Page 270 - ... it wants within itself, and receives no addition from multitudes of witnesses and spectators. On the contrary, false happiness loves to be in a crowd, and to draw the eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive any satisfaction from the applauses which she gives herself, but from the admiration which she raises in others.
Page 112 - Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field ; Let us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, And the pomegranates bud forth: There will I give thee my loves.
Page 210 - Once again I see These hedgerows, hardly hedgerows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild ; these pastoral farms, Green to the very door...
Page 14 - That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictate of spare Temperance: If every just man that now pines with want Had but a moderate and beseeming share Of that which lewdly pampered Luxury Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed In unsuperfluous even proportion, And she no whit encumbered with her store...

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