The Carthusian, Issues 1-66

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Page 254 - To suffer woes which hope thinks infinite ; To forgive wrongs darker than death or night ; To defy power which seems omnipotent ; To love and bear ; to hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates...
Page 51 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage : If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.
Page 31 - I could scarce reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields, of which he set me an example on Sunday ; having been all my life (till very lately) so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin, if it had not been done in a church.
Page 23 - In darkness and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart— How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee!
Page 38 - and fell back. It was the word we used at school, when names were called ; and lo, he, whose heart was as that of a little child, had answered to his name, and stood in the presence of The Master.
Page 50 - There he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God; where like a primitive saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day ; there he penned these poems, steps for happy souls to climb heaven by.
Page 384 - If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray.
Page 59 - The toil by day, the lamp at night, The tedious forms, the solemn prate, The pert dispute, the dull debate, The drowsy bench, the babbling Hall, For thee, fair Justice, welcome all...
Page 104 - True humour springs not more from the head than from the heart ; it is not contempt, its essence is love ; it issues not in laughter, but in still smiles, which lie far deeper.
Page 92 - Look yonder, — that hale, welllooking puppy ! You ungrateful scoundrel, did not I pity you, take you out of a great man's service, and show you the pleasure of receiving wages ? Did not I give you ten, then fifteen and twenty shillings a, week to be sorrowful ! — and the more I give, you, I think the gladder you are .'" 1

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