The Critical Review: Or, Annals of Literature, Volumen 3

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Tobias Smollett
R[ichard]. Baldwin, at the Rose in Pater-noster-Row, 1816
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Página 57 - Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive.
Página 359 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord ! FROM JOH.
Página 61 - He that backbiteth not with his tongue, Nor doeth evil to his neighbour, Nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour.
Página 506 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Página 159 - His coming. * [Then cometh the end, when He shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father ; when He shall have put down all rule, and all authority and power. For He must reign till He hath put all enemies under His feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Página 86 - As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.
Página 245 - Holy Scripture containeth all things necessary to salvation : so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as an article of faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation.
Página 504 - There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, 50 Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Página 613 - When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze Through golden vistas into Heaven — Those hues, that make the sun's decline So soft, so radiant, Lord ! are thine.
Página 359 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

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