Summer evening tales; consisting of narratives of truth and fiction, &c

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Page 98 - If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day ; and call the sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable ; and shalt honour him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words : then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord...
Page 13 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Page 75 - Not a tree, A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains A folio volume. We may read, and read, And read again, and still find something new, Something to please, and something to instruct, E'en in the noisome weed.
Page 172 - t at every blow. What course shall I think on ? she frets me so *. [Exit. Enter LEANTIO. Lean. How near am I now to a happiness That earth exceeds not ! not another like it : The treasures of the deep are not so precious, As are the conceal'd comforts of a man Lock'd up in woman's love. I scent the air Of blessings when I come but near the house: What a delicious breath marriage sends forth ! The violet-bed's not sweeter. Honest wedlock Is like a banqueting-house built in a garden, On which the spring's...
Page 176 - ... for Angling was, after tedious study, 'a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness ; and that it begat habits of peace and patience in those that professed and practised it.
Page 133 - Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face, Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate, Tumbled into a heap for public sale. There was another making villainous jests At thy undoing. He had ta'en possession Of all thy ancient most domestic ornaments: Rich hangings intermix'd and wrought with gold...
Page 3 - It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word;(') And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Page 89 - DEAR is the hallow'd morn to me, When village bells awake the day ; And, by their sacred minstrelsy, Call me from earthly cares away. And dear to me the winged hour, Spent in thy hallow'd courts, O Lord ! To feel devotion's soothing power, And catch the manna of thy word. And dear to me the loud Amen...
Page 181 - To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride: Let Nature guide thee; sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require: The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings, And lends the growing insect proper wings : Silks of all colours must their aid impart, And every fur promote the fisher's art.
Page 29 - Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep...

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