Pages from an old volume of life. A collection of essays 157-1881

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Houghton Mifflin, 1892

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159. oldal - I'd rather be A pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn, Have sight of Proteus coming from the sea, Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
109. oldal - I should advise persisting in our struggle for liberty, though it were revealed from heaven that nine hundred and ninety-nine were to perish, and only one of a thousand were to survive, and retain his liberty ! One such free man must possess more virtue, and enjoy more happiness, than a thousand slaves ; and let him propagate his like, and transmit to them what he hath so nobly preserved.
368. oldal - It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an Opinion as is unworthy of him : for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely : and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose :
241. oldal - Is it well with thee ? is it well with thy husband ? is it well with the child ? And she answered, It is well.
192. oldal - The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope But he said nought to me. "I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
80. oldal - Every master of slaves is born a petty tyrant. They bring the judgment of Heaven on a country. As nations cannot be rewarded or punished in the next world, they must be in this. By an inevitable chain of causes and effects, Providence punishes national sins by national calamities.
189. oldal - Every day's necessity calls for a reparation of that portion which death fed on all night, when we lay in his lap, and slept in his outer chambers. The very spirits of a man prey upon the daily portion of bread and flesh, and every meal is a rescue from one death, and lays up for another ; and while we think a...
257. oldal - This dish of meat is too good for any but Anglers, or very honest men ; and I trust, you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with this secret.
307. oldal - I slept soundly till three o'clock, awak'd, and then writ these lines — Come, pleasing rest — eternal slumber fall, Seal mine, that once must seal the eyes of all ; Calm and compos'd, my soul her journey takes. No guilt that troubles — and no heart that aches. Adieu ! thou sun, all bright like her arise ; Adieu ! fair friends, and all that's good and wise.
348. oldal - Between two viands, equally removed And tempting, a free man would die of hunger Ere either he could bring unto his teeth.

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