The Eclectic review. vol. 1-New [8th]

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Page 593 - I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly : thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.
Page 313 - And on the day called Sunday," all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits ; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things.
Page 445 - The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul : the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart : the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.
Page 457 - And a great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars; 2 she was with child and she cried out in her pangs of birth, in anguish for delivery.
Page 84 - And I do declare that no foreign prince, person, prelate, state, or potentate hath, or ought to have, any jurisdiction, power, superiority, preeminence, or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm : So help me God.
Page 50 - Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke: why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Page 593 - The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye, As the perfumed tincture of the roses ; Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses ; But, for their virtue* only is their show, They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade ; Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Page 301 - Shylock, we would have moneys :' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say, ' Hath a dog money ? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?
Page 457 - If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.
Page 350 - Nothin' like it," replied his father. " But don't you think it means more ? " inquired Sam. " Veil p'raps it is a more tenderer word,

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