'Is life worth living?' A lecture

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Wade & Company, 1881 - 30 páginas
 

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Página 23 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare; .Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And ' Let us worship God !* he says, with solemn air.
Página 16 - Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of thee, And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
Página 28 - Oh, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroyed, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Página 26 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels * bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after...
Página 17 - So runs my dream: but what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.
Página 6 - So careful of the type'? but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, 'A thousand types are gone: I care for nothing, all shall go. 'Thou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life, I bring to death : The spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more.
Página 23 - Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro', To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an
Página 3 - That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Página 26 - With a bare bodkin ? Who would fardels bear, To groan and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, — That undiscovered country, from whose bourne No traveller returns, — puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of?
Página 6 - And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed...

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