Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Том 158

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W. Blackwood & Sons, 1895
 

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Сторінка 14 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Сторінка 21 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Сторінка 503 - To-day I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. "An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk : from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. "He dried his wings: like gauze they grew: Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.
Сторінка 30 - In all their affliction he was afflicted, and ' the angel of his presence saved them : in his love and in his pity he redeemed them ; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.
Сторінка 127 - Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood. In which the affections gently lead us on...
Сторінка 108 - The fishermen of each country shall enjoy the exclusive right of fishery within the distance of 3 miles from low-water mark along the whole extent of the coasts of their respective countries, as well as of the dependent islands and banks.
Сторінка 383 - Knox's History of the Reformation,^. 373-4. Such seems to be the subject of the following ballad, as narrated by the stern apostle of Presbytery. It will readily strike the reader, that the tale has suffered great alterations, as handed down by tradition ; the French waiting-woman being changed into Mary Hamilton," and the queen's apothecary into Henry Darnley.
Сторінка 78 - His hand is against every man; and every man's hand is against him.
Сторінка 122 - Where is the singer whose large notes and clear Can heal and arm and plenish and sustain ? Lo, one with empty music floods the ear, And one, the heart refreshing, tires the brain. And idly tuneful, the loquacious throng Flutter and twitter, prodigal of time, And little masters make a toy of song Till grave men weary of the sound of rhyme.
Сторінка 554 - But thus you see we maintain a trade, not for gold, silver, or jewels, nor for silks, nor for spices, nor any other commodity of matter, but only for God's first creature, which was light ; to have light, I say, of the growth of all parts of the world.

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