John Leech, and Other Papers

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David Douglas, 1882 - Great Britain - 442 pages

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Page 79 - But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery. And their going from us to be utter destruction: but they are in peace.
Page 294 - 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 235 - She set as sets the morning star, which goes Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides Obscured among the tempests of the sky, But melts away into the light of heaven.
Page 279 - among them that wrought the work * of the tabernacle made ten curtains of fine twined linen, and blue, and purple, and scarlet : with cherubims of cunning work made he them.
Page 295 - Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling : for it is God that worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.
Page 294 - Stormy wind fulfilling his word : Mountains, and all hills ; Fruitful trees, and all cedars : Beasts, and all cattle ; Creeping things, and flying fowl : Kings of the earth, and all people ; Princes, and all judges of the earth : Both young men, and maidens ; Old men, and children : Let them praise the name of the Lord : For his name alone is excellent ; His glory is above the earth and heaven.
Page 250 - The greenwood path to meet her brother: They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the forest thorough ; They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow...
Page 52 - ... charm his pained steps over the burning marie.
Page 245 - The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet; The westland wind is hush and still, The lake lies sleeping at my feet. Yet not the landscape to mine eye Bears those bright hues that once it bore ; Though evening, with her richest dye, Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore.
Page 315 - Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious surges sink and rise, Such a soft floating witchery of sound As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land, Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers, Footless and wild, like birds of Paradise, Nor pause, nor perch, hovering on untamed wing! 0 ! the one life within us and abroad, Which meets all motion and becomes its soul...

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