The Foreign quarterly review [ed. by J.G. Cochrane]., Tom 32

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John George Cochrane
1844

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Strona 346 - He answered and said unto them, "When it is evening ye say, 'It will be fair weather; for the sky is red.' And in the morning, 'It will be foul weather today; for the sky is red and lowering.' O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?
Strona 492 - In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; Men, who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain : These constitute a State, And sovereign Law, that State's collected will O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits Empress, crowning good, repressing ill.
Strona 355 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Strona 126 - M'incite à la révolte et me promet secours, Mais lorsqu'à mon besoin je me veux servir d'elle. Après beaucoup de peine et d'efforts impuissants, Elle dit qu'Uranie est seule aimable et belle, £| Et m'y rengage plus que ne font tous mes sens.
Strona 344 - Lord Macclesfield, who had the greatest share in forming the bill, and who is one of the greatest mathematicians and astronomers in Europe, spoke afterwards with infinite knowledge, and all the clearness that so intricate a matter would admit of: but as his words, his periods, and his utterance were not near so good as mine, the preference was most unanimously, though most unjustly, given to me.
Strona 284 - WHEN Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night. And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light...
Strona 288 - Hot midsummer's petted crone, Sweet to me thy drowsy tone Tells of countless sunny hours, Long days, and solid banks of flowers ; Of gulfs of sweetness without bound In Indian wildernesses found ; Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure, Firmest cheer, and bird-like pleasure.
Strona 280 - In God is our trust"; And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er...
Strona 281 - Should the tempest of war overshadow our land. Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder; For, unmov'd, at its portal, would Washington stand. And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the thunder! His sword from the sleep Of its scabbard would leap, And conduct, with its point, every flash to the deep! For ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves, While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.
Strona 291 - Farewell to the sweet sunshine ! One glad day Is added now to Childhood's merry days, And one calm day to those of quiet Age. Still the fleet hours run on ; and as I lean, Amid the thickening darkness, lamps are lit, By those who watch the dead, and those who twine Flowers for the bride. The mother from the eyes Of her sick infant shades the painful light, And sadly listens to his quick-drawn breath.

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