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13. oldal - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense. Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
127. oldal - Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.
46. oldal - OF all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
97. oldal - 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. The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever : the judgments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold : sweeter also than honey, and the honeycomb. Moreover by them 'is thy servant warned : and in...
122. oldal - There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
97. oldal - 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.
131. oldal - Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor ; Who, busied in his majesty...
138. oldal - For him, the Spring Distils her dews, and from the silken gem Its lucid leaves unfolds : for him, the hand Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn.
14. oldal - Mercy to him that shows it is the rule And righteous limitation of its act, By which Heaven moves in pardoning guilty man : And he that shows none, being ripe in years, And conscious of the outrage he commits, Shall seek it, and not find it, in his turn.
138. oldal - Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain From all the tenants of the warbling shade Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Fresh pleasure, unreproved.

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