Hours at Home, Volume 6

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Charles Scribner & Company, 1868

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Page 109 - Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac. Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Page 73 - For they got not the land in possession by their own sword, neither did their own arm save them : but thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because thou hadst a favour unto them. 4 Thou art my King, O God : command deliverances for Jacob. 5 Through thee will we push down our enemies : through thy name will we tread them under that rise up against us.
Page 112 - Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man. What passion cannot Music raise and quell? When Jubal struck the chorded shell, His listening brethren stood around, And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell, That spoke so sweetly, and so well.
Page 329 - Isaac, (for the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of Him that calleth,) it was said unto her, The elder shall serve the younger. As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.
Page 111 - The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo...
Page 112 - From harmony, from heavenly harmony This universal frame began : From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.
Page 110 - This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, &C.
Page 188 - Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear That mourns thy exit from a world like this; Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here. And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss. No more confined to grovelling scenes of night, No more a tenant pent in mortal clay; Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, And trace thy journey to the realms of day.
Page 551 - And burning in the mid-day sky, Quench thou the fires of hate and strife, The wasting fever of the heart ; From perils guard our feeble life, And to our souls thy peace impart.
Page 8 - Behold, my servant shall deal prudently, he shall be exalted and extolled, and be very high. As many were astonied at thee, (his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men...

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