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Beliebte Passagen

Seite 81 - MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home!
Seite 127 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Christopher's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Seite 139 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin.
Seite 131 - Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till like a sea of glory It spreads from pole to pole; Till o'er our ransomed nature The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
Seite 277 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Seite 117 - Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, • Westward, much nearer by south-west, behold; Where on the JEgean shore a city stands, Built nobly; pure the air, and light the soil; Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence, native to famous wits Or hospitable, in her sweet recess, City or suburban, studious walks and shades.
Seite 121 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
Seite 127 - Blessings be with them — and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares — The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days.
Seite 151 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try : Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. 4 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death ; He enters heaven with prayer. 5 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways ; While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry —
Seite 79 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.

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