The English Reader: Or, Pieces in Prose and Poetry Selected from the Best Writers : Designed to Assist Young Persons to Read with Propriety and Effect, to Improve Their Language and Sentiments, and to Inculcate Some of the Most Important Principles of Piety and Virtue ...
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Page 107 - I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me : and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me : my judgment was as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to the poor : and the cause which I knew not I searched out.
Page 292 - Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country and their shackles fall.
Page 313 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there; But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Page 313 - But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought ! Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot.
Page 233 - Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, And drink thy wine with a merry heart ; For God now accepteth thy works.
Page 293 - Falsely luxurious, will not man awake ; And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, To meditation due and sacred song...
Page 335 - Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky way...
Page 325 - Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ? • Where grows ? — where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil...
Page 354 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy. Then comes THY glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent.