The Works of Mrs. Elizabeth Rowe: Dialogues. Familiar letters. Life of the author

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J. & A. Arch, 1796
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Page 122 - One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and another shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel.
Page 223 - Come and gather yourselves together unto the supper of the great God, that ye may eat the flesh of kings and the flesh of captains and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men both free and bond, both small and great.
Page 328 - What is this absorbs me quite, Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my soul, can this be death? The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears With sounds seraphic ring! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Page 241 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Page 133 - Hail, mildly pleasing solitude, Companion of the wise and good. But, from whose holy, piercing eye, The herd of fools and villains fly. Oh ! how I love with thee to walk, And listen to thy whisper' d talk, Which innocence and truth imparts, And melts the most obdurate hearts.
Page 134 - Now wrapt in some mysterious dream, , A lone philosopher you seem ; Now quick from hill to vale you fly, And now you sweep the vaulted sky ; A shepherd next, you haunt the plain, And warble forth your oaten strain. A lover now, with all the grace Of that sweet passion in your face ; Then...
Page 300 - How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot Eternal sun-shine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd; Labour and rest, that equal periods keep; "Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep"; Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n; Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to heav'n.
Page 31 - Il n'ya rien de plus réel que cela, ni de plus terrible. Faisons tant que nous voudrons les braves, voilà la fin qui attend la plus belle vie du monde.
Page 134 - And the faint landscape swims away, Thine is the doubtful soft decline, And that best hour of musing thine. Descending angels bless thy train, The virtues of the sage, and swain ; Plain Innocence, in white array'd, Before thee lifts her fearless head : Religion's beams around thee shine, And cheer thy glooms with light divine : About thee sports sweet Liberty ; And rapt Urania sings to thee.
Page 300 - Fresh-blooming Hope, gay daughter of the sky ! And Faith, our early immortality ! Enter, each mild, each amicable guest...

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