The Literary and Scientific Repository, and Critical Review, Volume 4

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Wiley and Halsted, 1822
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Page 354 - Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection; on such the second death hath no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and shall reign with him a thousand years.
Page 224 - About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me, that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.
Page 370 - Tell them, I AM, JEHOVAH said To MOSES; while earth heard in dread, And, smitten to the heart, At once above, beneath, around, All Nature, without voice or sound, Replied, "O LORD, THOU ART.
Page 155 - There is an equilibrium upon the wheel and axle when the power is to the weight as the radius of the axle to the radius of the wheel.
Page 231 - Israel ! Flee from the face of this God, or ye shall utterly perish. But whither will ye flee ? Into heaven ? He is there. Down to hell ? He is there also. Ye cannot flee from an omnipresent, almighty tyrant. And whether ye flee or stay, I call Heaven, his throne, and Earth, his footstool, to witness against you : ye shall perish, ye shall die...
Page 484 - Friend of my youth,* with thee began the love Of sacred song ; the wont, in golden dreams, 'Mid classic realms of splendours past to rove, O'er haunted steep, and by immortal streams ; Where the blue wave, with...
Page 483 - When the hand of time shall have brushed off his present Editors and Commentators, and when the very name of Voltaire, and even the memory of the language in which he has written, shall be no more, the Apalachian mountains, the banks of the Ohio, and the plains of Sciota shall resound with the accents of this Barbarian...
Page 485 - Narraganset's tides roll by their grave, And Haup's romantic steeps are piled above the wave. Friend of my youth ! with thee began my song. And o'er thy bier its latest accents die ; Misled in phantom-peopled realms too long, — Though not to me the muse averse deny, Sometimes, perhaps, her visions to descry, Such thriftless pastime should with youth be o'er; And he who loved with thee his notes to try, But for thy sake, snch idlesse would deplore, And swears to meditate the thankless muse no more.
Page 80 - ... the sound of voices, which, during the cold weather, could be heard at a much greater distance than usual, served now and then to break the silence which reigned around us, a silence far different from that peaceable composure which characterizes the landscape of a cultivated country; it was the death-like stillness of the most dreary desolation, and the total absence of animated existence.
Page 484 - Go forth, sad fragments of a broken strain, The last that either bard shall e'er essay ! The hand can ne'er attempt the chords again, That first awoke them, in a happier day : Where sweeps the ocean breeze its desert way, His requiem murmurs o'er the moaning wave ; And he who feebly now prolongs the lay, Shall ne'er the minstrel's...

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