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Стр. 13 - He rebuketh the sea, and maketh it dry, and drieth up all the rivers: ...The mountains quake at him, and the hills melt, and the earth is burned at his presence, yea, the world, and all that dwell therein.
Стр. 231 - MEN in great place are thrice servants ; servants of the sovereign or state, servants of fame, and servants of business ; so as they have no freedom, neither in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in their timea. It is a strange desire to seek power and to lose liberty ; or to seek power over others, and to lose power over a man's self.
Стр. 128 - ... pride, and four times as much by our folly ; and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us ; God helps them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says.
Стр. 181 - And hung his bow upon thy awful front, And spoke in that loud voice which seemed to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake The "sound of many waters," and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back And notch his centuries in the eternal rocks.
Стр. 152 - Sits on the horizon round a settled gloom : Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, Oppressing life ; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy, The wish of nature. Gradual sinks the breeze Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves Of aspen tall.
Стр. 215 - There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
Стр. 112 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Стр. 194 - 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.
Стр. 142 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...