Memoirs of the Life and Writings of James Montgomery: Including Selections from His Correspondence, Remains in Prose and Verse, and Conversations on Various Subjects, Volume 2

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Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1855

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Page 289 - He, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower : his form had not yet lost All her original brightness; nor appeared Less than archangel ruined, and the excess Of glory obscured.
Page 316 - executioners of divine wrath. The poets have taken happy advantage of this superstition, and none have more nobly employed it than Milton : — ' On th' other side, Incensed with indignation, Satan stood Unterrified, and like a comet burned, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war.
Page 78 - Grave ' proclaims the superiority and immunity of the soul: — " ' The sun is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky ; The SOUL ! immortal as its sire, Shall never die.
Page 75 - Tell them I AM,' JEHOVAH said To Moses, while earth heard in dread; And smitten to the heart, At once, above, beneath, around, All nature, without voice or sound, Replied, ' O LORD ! THOU ART.
Page 316 - of whom the same poet, by the mouth of Adam, thus speaks, in language too exquisite for us to profane it by a parody to suit a temporary purpose:— ' Haste hither, Eve, and worth thy sight behold Eastward, among those trees, what glorious shape Comes this way moving ; seems another morn Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from heaven To us perhaps he brings.
Page 289 - Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides Prone on the flood,
Page 77 - Seek out—less often sought than found— A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Page 65 - Like the leaves of the forest, when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen ; Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. The angel of death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he past, And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their

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