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ancient anecdote animal appear beauty biped bookseller called celebrated century character charms cherry ripe church court cure curious Dean Swift death disease divine doctor dominical letters dress eminent England English eyes feeling give gold grace habits hand heart heaven honour human ingenious insects instance Jeremy Taylor Julius Cæsar labour lady latter learned Leigh Hunt less literary lived London Lord Madame de Genlis master medicine mind miser month moral movable types moveable feasts nature never night noble observed occasion original Parian Chronicle passion patient Petrarch physician plagiarism poet poor possessed preacher preaching present printed printers profession published pulpit remarkable replied rich Richard Grafton Rowland Hill Saxons says scarcely seems sermon soul styled supposed things thou thought thousand volumes wealth woman words writer young
Seite 164 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Seite 184 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May ! that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Seite 341 - The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made: Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Seite 75 - There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe
Seite 123 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.
Seite 247 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone...
Seite 188 - THE more we live, more brief appear Our life's succeeding stages : A day to childhood seems a year, And years like passing ages. The gladsome current of our youth, Ere passion yet disorders, Steals lingering like a river smooth Along its grassy borders. But as the care-worn cheek grows wan, And sorrow's shafts fly thicker, Ye Stars, that measure life to man, Why seem your courses quicker ? When joys have lost their bloom and breath And life itself is vapid, Why, as we reach the Falls of Death, Feel...
Seite 295 - He, that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, should beware Of lightness in his speech. 'Tis pitiful To court a grin, when you should woo a soul ; To break a jest, when pity would inspire Pathetic exhortation ; and t' address The skittish fancy with facetious tales, When sent with God's commission to the heart : So did not Paul.
Seite 185 - In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the Robin's breast ; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest ; In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove ; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Seite 349 - ... Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.