Ledlie's miscellany and journal for the North west

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Page 543 - And he knew it, and said, It is my son's coat; an evil beast hath devoured him ; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.
Page 332 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown...
Page 543 - And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days. And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him ; but he refused to be comforted; and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning.
Page 206 - Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes.
Page 584 - ... exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos educunt fetus, aut cum liquentia mella stipant et dulci distendunt nectare cellas, aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent ; 435 fervet opus redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. "o fortunati, quorum iam moenia surgunt ! " Aeneas ait et fastigia suspicit urbis.
Page 423 - It is easier to rouse the passions than to direct the mind. When pride cometh, then cometh shame. — She is as good as he. No one is so much alone in the universe as a denier of God. As we do to others, so shall it be done unto us. Man gains wider dominion by his intellect than by his right arm.
Page 101 - I am not much versed, Corporal, quoth my uncle Toby, in things of that kind; but I suppose, God would not leave him without one, any more than thee or me It would be putting one sadly over the head of another, quoth the Corporal. It would so; said my uncle Toby. Why then, an...
Page 464 - Tous ces crimes d'Etat qu'on fait pour la couronne, Le Ciel nous en absout alors qu'il nous la donne, Et, dans le sacré rang où sa faveur l'a mis, Le passé devient juste, et l'avenir permis.
Page 303 - Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away : O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! But soft ! but soft ! aside : here comes the king.
Page 72 - Tis past midday, exhausted by the heat, The peacock plunges in the scanty pool That feeds the tall tree's root : the drowsy bee Sleeps in the hollow chamber of the lotus, Darkened with closing petals ; on the brink Of the now tepid lake the wild duck lurks Amongst the sedgy shades; and, even here, The parrot from his wiry bower complains, And calls for water to allay his thirst.

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