The Harvest of a Quiet Eye: Leisure Thoughts for Busy Lives

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Religious Tract Society, 1867 - 299 Seiten
 

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Seite 136 - All things come alike to all: there is one event to the righteous and to the wicked; to the good, and to the clean, and to the unclean; to him that sacrificeth, and to him that sacrificeth not: as is the good, so is the sinner; and he that sweareth, as he that feareth an oath.
Seite 90 - I gazed— and gazed— but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Seite 90 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Seite 134 - As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
Seite 53 - Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery...
Seite 50 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Seite 253 - He giveth snow like wool : he scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels : who can stand before his cold ? He sendeth out his word, and melteth them : he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.
Seite 116 - Lo! in the middle of the wood, The folded leaf is woo'd from out the bud With winds upon the branch, and there Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun-steep'd at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air.
Seite 135 - For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night. Thou earnest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
Seite 16 - Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living present! Heart within, and GOD o'erhead!

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