Sacred History of the World: Attempted to be Philosophically Considered, in a Series of Letters to a Son, 第 2 卷,第 72 期

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第 175 頁 - The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest — Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast...
第 218 頁 - And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering : but unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect.
第 171 頁 - IT is the first mild day of March : Each minute sweeter than before, The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains bare And grass in the green field.
第 108 頁 - We know, and what is better, we feel inwardly, that religion is the basis of civil society, and the source of all good and of all comfort.
第 174 頁 - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore; — Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
第 124 頁 - Yet he passed away, and, lo, he was not: yea, I sought him, but he could not be found.
第 400 頁 - And he will be a wild man ; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him ; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren.
第 395 頁 - And Isaac his father answered and said unto him, Behold, thy dwelling shall be the fatness of the earth, and of the dew of heaven from above; And by thy sword shalt thou live, and shalt serve thy brother; and it shall come to pass when thou shalt have the dominion, that thou shalt break his yoke from off thy neck.
第 170 頁 - I never hear the loud, solitary whistle of the curlew in a summer noon, or the wild, mixing cadence of a troop of gray plovers in an autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the enthusiasm of devotion or poetry.
第 173 頁 - Oh ! pleasant, pleasant were the days, The time, when, in our childish plays, My sister Emmeline and I Together chased the butterfly ! A very hunter did I rush Upon the prey : — with leaps and springs I followed on from...

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