Callista: A Sketch of the Third Century

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Burns and Lambert, 1856 - Christian fiction - 296 pages
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Page 5 - Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub, And bush with frizzled hair implicit : Last Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd Their blossoms: With high .woods the hills were crown'd ; With tufts the valleys, and each fountain side ; With borders long the rivers : that Earth now Seem'd like to Heaven, a seat where Gods might dwell, Or wander with delight, and love to haunt Her sacred shades...
Page 124 - But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a Lover; and attired With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired...
Page 5 - Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad Her universal face with pleasant green ; Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden...
Page 244 - You may tell me that this dictate is a mere law of my nature, as to joy or to grieve. I cannot understand this. No, it is the echo of a person speaking to me. Nothing shall persuade me that it does not ultimately proceed from a person external to me. It carries with it its proof of ita divine origin.
Page 5 - Embattled in her field ; and the humble shrub, And bush with frizzled hair implicit : last Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd Their blossoms : with high woods the hills were crown'd ; With tufts the valleys and each fountain side ; With borders long the rivers : that earth now Seem'd like to heaven, a seat where gods might dwell, Or wander with delight, and love to haunt Her sacred shades...
Page 244 - I believe in what is more than a mere " something." I believe in what is more real to me than sun, moon, stars and the fair earth and the voice of friends. You will say, Who is He ? Has He ever told you anything about Himself? Alas, No ! the more's the pity ! But I will not give up what I have because I have not more. An echo implies a voice, a voice a speaker. That speaker I love and I fear.
Page 264 - She slept sound ; she dreamed. She thought she was no longer in Africa, but in her own Greece, more sunny and bright than before; but the inhabitants were gone. Its majestic mountains, its rich plains, its expanse of waters, all silent : no one to converse with, no one to sympathize with. And, as she wandered on and wondered, suddenly its face changed, and its colours were illuminated tenfold by a heavenly glory, and each hue upon the scene was of a beauty she had never known, and seemed strangely...

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