The North British Review, Volumen 14

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W.P. Kennedy, 1851
 

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Página 325 - Neither do men put new wine into old bottles : else the bottles break, and the wine runneth out, and the bottles perish : but they put new wine into new bottles, and both are preserved.
Página 509 - Behold, I stand at the door, and knock : if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me.
Página 511 - Nor thro' the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun : If e'er when faith had fallen asleep, I heard a voice, 'Believe no more,' And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep ; A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part, And like a man in wrath the heart Stood up and answer'd,
Página 455 - The name of the first is Pison : that is it which compasseth the whole land of Havilah, where there is gold ; and the gold of that land is good : there is bdellium and the onyx stone.
Página 360 - No more fatigue, no more distress ; Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place ; No groans to mingle with the songs Which warble from immortal tongues.
Página 487 - Come then, pure hands, and bear the head That sleeps or wears the mask of sleep, And come, whatever loves to weep, And hear the ritual of the dead. Ah yet, ev'n yet, if this might be, I, falling on his faithful heart, Would breathing thro...
Página 486 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Página 426 - And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Página 514 - Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace : Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet ; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
Página 361 - But sacred, high, eternal noon ! 5 0 long-expected day, begin ! Dawn on these realms of woe and sin ; Fain would we leave this weary road, And sleep in death, to rest with God.

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