Western Africa: Its Condition, and Christianity, the Means of Its Recovery

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Houlston and Stoneman, 1844 - 400 Seiten
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Seite 350 - Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!
Seite 363 - Then shall the earth bring forth her increase : and God, even our own God, shall give us his blessing.
Seite 234 - Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell ! Here are sweet sounds, which thou lovest well ; Flutes on the air in the stilly noon, Harps which the wandering breezes tune ; And the silvery wood-note of many a bird, Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard.
Seite 219 - Why should ye be stricken any more ? ye will revolt more and more : the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores: they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment.
Seite 235 - Fair child, thy brothers are wanderers now ; They sport no more on the mountain's brow ; They have left the fern by the spring's green side, And the streams where the fairy barks were tied. Be thou at peace in thy brighter lot ; For thy cabin home is a lonely spot.
Seite 274 - Thou hast delivered me from the strivings of the people; and thou hast made me the head of the heathen: a people whom I have not known shall serve me. 44 As soon as they hear of me, they shall obey me: the strangers shall submit themselves unto me.
Seite 92 - I briefly explained to her ; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her.
Seite 93 - The winds roared, and the rains fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk — no wife to grind his corn.
Seite 233 - Oh ! green is the turf where my brothers play, Through the long bright hours of the summer day ; They find the red cup-moss where they climb, And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme, And the...
Seite 234 - They find the red cup-moss where they climb, And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme ; And the rocks where the heath-flower blooms they know — Lady, kind lady, oh! let me go!

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