The Quarterly review, Band 114

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Seite 188 - his own bitterness ; and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy.
Seite 63 - And there went forth a wind from the LORD, and brought quails from the sea, and let them fall by the camp, as it were a day's journey on this side, and as it were a day's journey on the other side, round about the camp, and as it were two cubits high upon the face of the earth.
Seite 60 - Thus saith the Lord; As the shepherd taketh out of the mouth of the lion two legs, or a piece of an ear; so shall the children of Israel be taken out that dwell in Samaria in the corner of a bed, and in Damascus in a couch.
Seite 229 - STRONG Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute ; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Seite 238 - And here I prophesy ; — This brawl to-day Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Seite 187 - And when they shall say unto you, Seek unto them that have familiar spirits, and unto wizards that peep, and that mutter: should not a people seek unto their God? "For the living to the dead? To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them.
Seite 209 - That the dead are seen no more, said Imlac, I will not undertake to maintain against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages, and of all nations. There is no people, rude or learned, among whom apparitions of the dead are not related and believed. This opinion, which...
Seite 153 - This rambling propensity strengthened with my years. Books of voyages and travels became my passion, and in devouring their contents, I neglected the regular exercises of the school. How wistfully would I wander about the...
Seite 349 - Strong the earthy odour grows — I smell the mould above the rose ! Welcome Life ! the Spirit strives ! Strength returns and hope revives ; Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn Fly like shadows at the morn, — O'er the earth there comes a bloom ; Sunny light for sullen gloom, Warm perfume for vapour cold — I smell the rose above the mould ! April, 1845.
Seite 49 - The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold, the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee, sling-stones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble : he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.

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