The London Quarterly Review, Volume 57

Front Cover
William Lonsdale Watkinson, William Theophilus Davison
J.A. Sharp, 1882 - Theology
 

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Page 525 - THE lost days of my life until to-day, What were they, could I see them on the street Lie as they fell ? Would they be ears of wheat Sown once for food but trodden into clay ? Or golden coins squandered and still to pay ? Or drops of blood dabbling the guilty feet? Or such spilt water as in dreams must cheat The undying throats of Hell, athirst alway?
Page 245 - The school-boy whips his taxed top — the beardless youth manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle on a taxed road ; — and the dying Englishman pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent.
Page 79 - A lily of a day Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Page 85 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 162 - It is only a poor sort of happiness that could ever come by caring very much about our own narrow pleasures. We can only have the highest happiness, such as goes along with being a great man, by having wide thoughts, and much feeling for the rest of the world as well as ourselves; and this sort of happiness often brings so much pain with it that we can only tell it from pain by its being what we would choose before everything else, because our souls see it is good.
Page 408 - Then saith Jesus unto them, All ye shall be offended because of me this night : for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad.
Page 162 - And so, my Lillo, if you mean to act nobly and seek to know the best things God has put within reach of men, you must learn to fix your mind on that end, and not on what will happen to you because of it.
Page 354 - These are the heroes that despise the Dutch, And rail at new-come foreigners so much ; Forgetting that themselves are all derived From the most scoundrel race that ever lived...
Page 86 - If, therefore, we speak of the Mind as a series of feelings, we are obliged to complete the statement by calling it a series of feelings which is aware of itself as past and future ; and we are reduced to the alternative of believing that the Mind, or Ego, is something different from any series of feelings, or possibilities of them, or of accepting the paradox, that something which ex hypolhesi is but a series of feelings, can be aware of itself as a series.
Page 142 - I were to pray for a taste which should stand me in stead under every variety of circumstances, and be a source of happiness and cheerfulness to me through life, and a shield against its ills, however things might go amiss and the world frown upon me, it would be a taste for reading.

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