The British Quarterly Review, Tomy 67-68

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Henry Allon
Hodder and Stoughton, 1878

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Strona 47 - For, for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.
Strona 86 - Why should ye be stricken any more? ye will revolt more and more: the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it ; but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores : they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment.
Strona 94 - If I were what the words are, And love were like the tune, With double sound and single Delight our lips would mingle, With kisses glad as birds are That get sweet rain at noon ; If I were what the words are And love were like the tune.
Strona 48 - The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished: 10 But chiefly them that walk after the flesh in the lust of uncleanness, and despise government.
Strona 112 - an Inquiry into the Means and Ends of Economic Production, with an Appendix on the Depreciation of Silver and Indian Currency. By ROWLAND HAMILTON. 8vo.
Strona 97 - Though the world of your hands be more gracious And lovelier in lordship of things Clothed round by sweet art with the spacious Warm heaven of her imminent wings, Let them enter, unfledged and nigh fainting, For the love of old loves and lost times ; And receive in your palace of painting This revel of rhymes.
Strona 97 - Though the many lights dwindle to one light, There is help if the heaven has one ; Though the skies be discrowned of the sunlight And the earth dispossessed of the sun, They have moonlight and sleep for repayment, When, refreshed as a bride, and set free With stars and sea-winds in her raiment, Night sinks on the sea.
Strona 95 - neath a white cloud's hem; They need no parasols, no goloshes; And good Mrs. Trimmer she feedeth them. Then we thrid God's cowslips (as erst his heather), That endowed the wan grass with their golden blooms; And snapt — (it was perfectly charming weather) — Our fingers at Fate and her goddess-glooms: And Willie 'gan sing — (Oh, his notes were fluty; Wafts fluttered them out to the white-winged sea) — Something made up of rhymes that have done much duty, Rhymes (better to put it) of
Strona 9 - ... as surely as there is any efficacy in educational culture, or any meaning in such terms as habit, custom, practice ; — so surely must the human faculties be moulded into complete fitness for ' the social state; so surely must the things we call evil and ' immorality disappear ; so surely must man become perfect.
Strona 25 - Time takes them home that we loved, fair names and famous, To the soft long sleep, to the broad sweet bosom of death ; But the flower of their souls he shall take not away to shame us, Nor the lips lack song for ever that now lack breath. For with us shall the music and perfume that die not dwell, Though the dead to our dead bid welcome, and we farewell.

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