Hill and Valley: Or, Hours in England and Wales

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Robert Carter, 1838 - 378 pages
 

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Page 177 - Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?
Page 233 - There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. The liberal soul shall be made fat: and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.
Page 21 - A man that looks on glass, On it may stay his eye ; Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, And then the heaven espy. All may of Thee partake : Nothing can be so mean, Which with this tincture (for Thy sake) Will not grow bright and clean. A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine : Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that and th
Page 30 - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
Page 307 - Of mighty Shakespeare's birth the room we see, That where he died in vain to find we try: Useless the search ; for all immortal he ! And those who are immortal never die...
Page 82 - If any of them that believe not bid you to a feast, and ye be disposed to go ; whatsoever is set before you, eat, asking no question for conscience sake.
Page 282 - Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations : that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ...
Page 339 - And glory long has made the sages smile; 'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind — Depending more upon the historian's style Than on the name a person leaves behind: Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle: The present century was growing blind To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks, Until his late Life by Archdeacon Coxe.
Page 371 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Page 330 - It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house.

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