Spare Hours: John Leech, Marjorie Fleming and other papers

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Ticknor and Fields, 1866
 

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Page 370 - Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven : and come and follow me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful : for he had great possessions.
Page 83 - 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 94 - 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 97 - It was my guide, my light, my all ; It bade my dark forebodings cease, And through the storm and danger's thrall It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moored, my perils o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever and for evermore, The Star, the Star of Bethlehem...
Page 95 - PRAISE ye the LORD. Praise ye the LORD from the heavens : Praise him in the heights. Praise ye him, all his angels : Praise ye him, all his hosts. Praise ye him, sun and moon : Praise him, all ye stars of light.
Page 96 - 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 110 - For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed ; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.
Page 106 - 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. ' With listless look along the plain I see Tweed's silver current glide, And coldly mark the holy fane Of Melrose rise in ruin'd pride.
Page 286 - WERTHER had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter ; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And for all the wealth of Indies, Would do nothing for to hurt her. So he sighed and pined and ogled, And his passion boiled and bubbled, Till he blew his silly brains out, And no more was by it troubled. _*• Charlotte, having seen his body Borne before her on a shutter, Like a well-conducted person,...
Page 58 - ... think of thee with many fears For what may be thy lot in future years. I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality; And Grief, uneasy lover ! never rest But when she sate within the touch of thee. O too industrious folly! O vain and causeless melancholy ! Nature will either end thee quite; Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, Preserve for thee, by individual right, A young lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks.

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