The Christian remembrancer; or, The Churchman's Biblical, ecclesiastical & literary miscellany, 第 27 卷

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1854
 

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第206页 - It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry ; but that it is, now at length, discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly they treat it, as if, in the present age, this were an agreed point, among all people of discernment; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were by way of reprisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the world.
第461页 - And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads...
第314页 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above, And life is thorny, and youth is vain. And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
第325页 - She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: 'Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here! Dear heart,' I said, 'we are long alone; The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.
第323页 - Brimming, and bright, and large ; then sands begin To hem his watery march, and dam his streams, And split his currents; that for many a league The shorn and...
第325页 - In the world they say; Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the...
第322页 - Flow'd with the stream ; — all down his cold white side The crimson torrent ran, dim now and soil'd...
第324页 - Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills ; and there The sunshine in the happy glens is fair, And by the sea, and in the brakes. The grass is cool, the sea-side air Buoyant and fresh, the mountain flowers More virginal and sweet than ours.
第313页 - With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone. The islands feel the enclasping flow, And then their endless bounds they know. But when the moon their hollows lights, And they are swept by balms of spring, And in their glens, on starry nights, The nightingales divinely sing; And lovely notes, from shore to shore, Across the sounds and channels pour...
第313页 - Oh ! then a longing like despair Is to their farthest caverns sent ; for surely once, they feel, we were Parts of a single continent! Now round us spreads the watery plain — Oh might our marges meet again...

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