Letters to my pupils: with narrative and biographical sketches

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R. Carter & brothers, 1851 - Drama - 341 pages
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Page 21 - For my burial I desire it may be in St. Michael's Church near St. Albans : there was my mother buried, and it is the parish church of my mansion-house of Gorhambury, and it is the only Christian church within the walls of Old Verulam.
Page 260 - SISTERS! there's music here; From countless harps it flows, . Throughout this bright celestial sphere Nor pause nor discord knows. The seal is melted from my ear By love divine, And what through life I. pined to hear, Is mine ! Is mine ! The warbling of an ever-tuneful choir, And the full deep response of David's sacred lyre.
Page 123 - Pr'ythee, lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny ; 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own.
Page 236 - Whence, then, that peace So dove-like, settling o'er a soul that loved Earth and its pleasures? Whence that angel smile, With which the allurements of a world so dear Were counted and resigned ? that eloquence, So fondly urging those, whose hearts were full Of sublunary happiness, to seek A better portion ? Whence that voice of joy, Which from the marble lip, in life's last strife, Burst forth, to hail her everlasting home? — Cold reasoners, be convinced. And when ye stand Where that fair brow...
Page 275 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Page 295 - A rise in blessing ! with the patriarch's joy, Thy call I follow to the land unknown ; I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust ; Or life, or death, is equal ; neither weighs : All weight in this — O let me live to thee ! Tho' nature's terrors, thus, may be represt ; Still frowns grim Death ; guilt points the tyrant's spear.
Page 123 - Cromwell, Cromwell! Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king,83 he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 256 - Beloved, follow not that which is evil, but that which is good. He that doeth good is of God : but he that doeth evil hath not seen God.
Page 234 - THERE was an open grave, and many an eye Looked down upon it. Slow the sable hearse Moved on, as if reluctantly it bare The young, unwearied form to that cold couch, Which age and sorrow render sweet to man.
Page 85 - A childhood passed with a due mixture of rational indulgence, under fond and wise parents, diffuses over the whole of life, a feeling of calm pleasure; and, in extreme old age, is the very last remembrance which time can erase from the mind of man. No enjoyment, however inconsiderable, is confined to the present moment. A man is the happier for life, from...

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