Memorials Journal and Botanical Correspondence

Framsida
Macmillan and Bowes, 1897 - 475 sidor
 

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Sida xvi - Imagination slept, And yet not utterly. I could not print Ground where the grass had yielded to the steps Of generations of illustrious men, Unmoved. I could not always lightly pass Through the same gateways, sleep where they had slept, Wake where they waked, range that inclosure old, That garden of great intellects, undisturbed.
Sida xxxv - For who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou that thou didst not receive ? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it?
Sida xxxv - Yet Nature's charms, the hills and woods, The sweeping vales, and foaming floods, Are free alike to all. In days when Daisies deck the ground, And Blackbirds whistle clear, With honest joy our hearts will bound, To see the coming year : On braes when we please, then, We'll sit and sowth a tune ; Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, And sing't when we hae done.
Sida 270 - I'm truly sorry man's dominion, Has broken Nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, An
Sida xxxix - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe, and walk again: The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening Paradise.
Sida 262 - Not to name the school or the masters of men illustrious for literature, is a kind of historical fraud, by which honest fame is injuriously diminished : I would therefore trace him through the whole process of his education.
Sida vi - O'er all the fragrant bowers, Thou need'st not be ashamed to show Thy satin-threaded flowers ; For dull the eye, the heart is dull That cannot feel how fair, Amid all beauty beautiful, Thy tender blossoms are ! How delicate thy gauzy frill ! How rich thy branchy stem ! How soft thy voice, when woods are still, And thou sing'st hymns to them ; While silent showers are falling slow, And 'mid the general hush, A sweet air lifts the little bough...
Sida lvii - CHRIST to live, But, ere I live it, must I wait Till learning can clear answer give Of this and that book's date ? I have a life in CHRIST to live, I have a death in CHRIST to die ;— And must I wait, till science give All doubts a full reply ? Nay rather, while the sea of doubt Is raging wildly round about, Questioning of life and death and sin, Let me but creep within Thy fold, O CHRIST, and at Thy feet Take but the lowest seat, And hear Thine awful voice repeat In gentlest accents, heavenly sweet,...
Sida 261 - Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : - Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours ; and their works do follow them.
Sida lxiii - The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.

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