The Old cross, a Warwickshire quarterly magazine, ed. by W.G. Fretton

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William George Fretton
1879
 

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Página 263 - ... certain it is that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up in the communicating and discoursing with another:, he tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth them more orderly; he seeth how they look when they are turned into words; finally, he waxeth wiser than himself, and that more by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation.
Página 282 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Página 347 - Is there no balm in Gilead ; is there no physician there ? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered...
Página 327 - Last came, and last did go, The pilot of the Galilean lake ; Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain...
Página 280 - By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection.
Página 177 - My sledge and hammer lie reclined, My bellows, too, have lost their wind; . My fire's extinct, my forge decayed, And in the dust my vice is laid. My coal is spent, my iron's gone, My nails are drove, my work is done ; My fire-dried corpse lies here at rest, And, smoke-like, soars up to be bless'd.
Página 277 - But he knew that such indiscriminate prodigality was, to use his own admirable language, " from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as it were, the mirror up to nature.
Página 347 - And had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered but rather grew worse, 27 When she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment.
Página 281 - It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones.
Página 178 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells ! SHOULD THOSE FOND HOPES.

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