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Seite 236 - Tis the fire-shower of ruin all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn ; Return to thy dwelling ! all lonely return ! For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.
Seite 276 - Mammon led them on, Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific.
Seite 98 - The silver key of the fountain of tears, Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild ; Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child, Is laid asleep in flowers.
Seite 103 - And Jacob went near unto Isaac his father; and he felt him, and said, The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau.
Seite 268 - There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.
Seite 236 - Lo ! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah, home let him speed, — for the spoiler is nigh ! Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel, the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...
Seite 65 - But, above all, the victory is most sure For Him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to the law Of Conscience ; Conscience reverenced and obeyed, As God's most intimate Presence in the soul, And his most perfect Image in the world.
Seite 67 - Be she meeker, kinder, than fhe turtle-dove or pelican : If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or, her well-deservings known, Make me quite forget mine own? Be she with that goodness blest Which may merit name of Best; If she be not such to me, What care I how good she be?
Seite 17 - tis youth's frenzy— but the cure Is bitterer still, as charm by charm unwinds Which robed our idols, and we see too sure Nor Worth nor Beauty dwells from out the mind's Ideal shape of such ; yet still it binds — The fatal spell, and still it draws us on...
Seite 170 - For the love of money is the root of all evil, which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. But thou, O man of God, flee these things, and follow after righteousness, Godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.