Syria, the Holy Land, Asia Minor, &c. Illustrated: In a Series of Views Drawn from Nature, Volume 1

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Fisher, Son, & Company, 1836 - Middle East - 256 pages

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Page 61 - But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
Page 41 - To that high Capital where kingly Death Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay He came; and bought, with price of purest breath, A grave among the eternal.— Come away!
Page 41 - Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain." Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise ! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
Page 47 - The cedars in the garden of God could not hide him: the fir trees were not like his boughs, and the chestnut trees were not like his branches; nor any tree in the garden of God was like unto him in his beauty. I have made him fair by the multitude of his branches: so that all the trees of Eden, that were in the garden of God, envied him.
Page 57 - Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel ; Because ye have obeyed the commandment of Jonadab your father, and kept all his precepts, and done according unto all that he hath commanded you: therefore thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel; Jonadab the son of Rechab shall not want a man to stand before me for ever.
Page 55 - O'er intervening flowers to move — And as we read the names unknown, Of young and old, to judgment gone, And hear, in the calm air above, Time onwards softly flying, To meditate, in Christian love, Upon the dead and dying ! Across the silence seem to go With dream-like motion...
Page 31 - But treads with silent footstep, and fans with silent wing The tender hopes which in their hearts the best and gentlest bear; Who, soothed to false repose by the fanning plumes above. And the music-stirring motion of its soft and busy feet, Dream visions of aerial joy, and call the monster, Love, And wake, and find the shadow Pain, as he whom now we greet.
Page 41 - Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead ! See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes, Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies A tear some dream has loosened from his brain.
Page 41 - Then he brought me to the door of the gate of the Lord's house which was toward the north; and, behold, there sat women weeping for Tammuz.

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