God's Greater Britain: Letters and AddressesClark, 1899 - 204 стор. |
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God's Greater Britain, Letters and Addresses University John Clifford Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
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Сторінка 23 - Said our Lady of the Snows. A Nation spoke to a Nation, A Throne sent word to a Throne: "Daughter am I in my mother's house, But mistress in my own ! The gates are mine to open.
Сторінка 25 - THE proudest now is but my peer, The highest not more high ; To-day, of all the weary year, A king of men am I. To-day, alike are great and small, The nameless and the known ; My palace is the people's hall, The ballot-box my throne ! Who serves to-day upon the list Beside the served shall stand ; Alike the brown and wrinkled fist, The gloved and dainty hand ! The rich is level with the poor, The weak is strong to-day ; And sleekest broadcloth counts no more Than homespun frock of gray.
Сторінка 198 - Two empires by the sea, Two nations great and free, One anthem raise. One race of ancient fame, One tongue, one faith, we claim, One God, whose glorious name We love and praise.
Сторінка 168 - After these things I saw, and behold, a great multitude, which no man could number, out of every nation, and of all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb...
Сторінка 191 - I choose to solve the controversy with this small distinction, and it belongs to all three: any government is free to the people under it (whatever be the frame) where the laws rule and the people are a party to those laws, and more than this is tyranny, oligarchy, or confusion.
Сторінка 72 - It is not the law that is in fault ; it is owing to religious convictions, which everybody must respect, and to the teaching of their church, that Roman Catholics and members of the Church of England find themselves unable to partake of advantages which the law offers to all alike.
Сторінка 78 - Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let me in. Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could be; For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me.
Сторінка 9 - SHE has a beauty of her own, A beauty of a paler tone Than English belles. Yet southern sun and southern air Have kissed her cheeks until they wear The dainty tints that oft appear On rosy shells. Her frank, clear eyes bespeak a mind Old-world traditions fail to bind. She is not shy Or bold, but simply self-possessed; Her independence adds a zest Unto her speech, her piquant jest, Her quaint reply.
Сторінка 133 - Don't hang a dismal picture on the wall, and do not daub with sables and glooms in your conversation. Don't be a cynic and disconsolate preacher. Don't bewail and bemoan. Omit the negative propositions. Nerve us with incessant affirmatives. Don't waste yourself in rejection,1 nor bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good.
Сторінка 122 - Th' eternal step of Progress beats To that great anthem, calm and slow, Which God repeats. Take heart! — the Waster builds again, — A charmed life old Goodness hath; The tares may perish, — but the grain Is not for death. God works in all things; all obey His first propulsion from the night: Wake thou and watch! — the world is gray With morning light 1 THE PRISONER FOR DEBT LOOK on him!