The Nineteenth Century, Volumen 26

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Henry S. King & Company, 1889

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Página 478 - We have but faith : we cannot know; For knowledge is of things we see ; And yet we trust it comes from thee, A beam in darkness : let it grow.
Página 889 - God himself; that is, that they should rule all estates and degrees committed to their charge by God, whether they be Ecclesiastical or Temporal, and restrain with the civil sword the stubborn and evildoers. The Bishop of Rome hath no jurisdiction in this Realm of England.
Página 88 - Is not a patron, My Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help?
Página 806 - There is not, and there never was on this earth, a work of human policy so well deserving of examination as the Roman Catholic Church.
Página 629 - Pray now, buy some : I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burthen and how she longed to eat adders
Página 488 - WHY should we faint and fear to live alone, Since all alone, so Heaven has will'd, we die,* Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh...
Página 47 - And grudge to sing those wise and lovely songs Of Fate, and Chance, and God, and Chaos old, And Love and the chained Titan's woful doom, And how he shall be loosed, and make the earth One brotherhood : delightful strains which cheer Our solitary twilights, and which charm To silence the unenvying nightingales.
Página 15 - The conversation of the principal persons of the country all tends to encourage this system of blood ; and the conversation even at my table, where you will suppose I do all I can to prevent it, always turns on hanging, shooting, burning, &c., &c. ; and if a priest has been put to death, the greatest joy is expressed by the whole company.
Página 51 - Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
Página 438 - I long to see what you have been doing. O let it be the tail-piece of " The Recluse ! " for of nothing but " The Recluse " can I hear patiently. That it is to be addressed to me makes me more desirous that it should not be a poem of itself. To be addressed, as a beloved man, by a thinker, at the close of such a poem as

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