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Seite 7 - He found him in a desert land, and in the waste howling wilderness; he led him about, he instructed him, he kept him as the apple of his eye. As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings: So the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him.
Seite 78 - See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. Ah! what avail his glossy, varying dyes, His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes, The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold?
Seite 47 - But never elsewhere in one place I knew So many nightingales ; and far and near, In wood and thicket, over the wide grove, They answer and provoke each other's song, With skirmish and capricious passagings, And murmurs musical and swift jug jug, And one low piping sound more sweet than all...
Seite 81 - To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
Seite 201 - Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away.
Seite 167 - The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.
Seite 47 - Glides through the pathways ; she knows all their notes, That gentle Maid ! and oft, a moment's space, What time the moon was lost behind a cloud, Hath heard a pause of silence...
Seite 4 - Doth the eagle mount up at thy command, And make her nest on high ? She dwelleth and abideth on the rock, Upon the crag of the rock, and the strong place. From thence she seeketh the prey, And her eyes behold afar off. Her young ones also suck up blood : And where the slain are, there is she.
Seite 188 - Hark to Nature's lesson given By the blessed birds of heaven! Every bush and tufted tree Warbles sweet philosophy: ' Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow; God provideth for the morrow!