Ecclesiastes, Words of Koheleth: Son of David, King in Jerusalem; Translated Anew, Divided According to Their Logical Cleavage, and Accompanied with a Study of Their Literary and Spiritual Values and a Running Commentary

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1904 - Bible - 361 pages

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OCLC: 414516
Related Subjects: Bible. -- O.T. -- Ecclesiastes -- Commentaries.

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Page 281 - Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain— This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Page 346 - Poor vaunt of life indeed, Were man but formed to feed On joy, to solely seek and find and feast: Such feasting ended, then As sure an end to men; Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the mawcrammed beast?
Page 316 - Individuality is founded in feeling; and the recesses of feeling, the darker, blinder strata of character, are the only places in the world in which we catch real fact in the making, and directly perceive how events happen, and how work is actually done.
Page 320 - Every heart that has beat strong and . cheerfully has left a hopeful impulse behind it in the world, and bettered the tradition of mankind.
Page 320 - ... does not life go down with a better grace, foaming in full body over a precipice, than miserably straggling to an end in sandy deltas?
Page 208 - I have gone the whole round of creation: I saw and I spoke. I, a work of God's hand for that purpose, received in my brain, And pronounced on, the rest of his handwork, — returned him again His creation's approval or censure; I spoke as I saw. I report, as a man may of God's work: all's love, yet all's law.
Page 346 - GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!
Page 328 - How pure at heart and sound in head, With what divine affections bold, Should be the man whose thought would hold An hour's communion with the dead. In vain shalt thou, or any, call The spirits from their golden day, Except, like them, thou too canst say, My spirit is at peace with all. They haunt the silence of the breast, Imaginations calm and fair, The memory like a cloudless air, The conscience as a sea at rest.
Page 208 - O me ! for why is all around us here As if some lesser god had made the world But had not force to shape it as he would, Till the High God behold it from beyond, And enter it, and make it beautiful?
Page 248 - Here sits he shaping wings to fly : His heart forebodes a mystery : He names the name Eternity. " That type of Perfect in his mind In Nature can he nowhere find. He sows himself on every wind. " He seems to hear a Heavenly Friend, And thro' thick veils to apprehend A labour working to an end.

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