The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 42
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Page 322 - Should earth against my soul engage, And hellish darts be hurled, Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3. ' Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all ; — 4. ' There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest ; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.
Page 90 - As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!
Page 37 - And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Page 18 - For that which I do I allow not : for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.
Page 19 - But now we are delivered from the law, that being dead wherein we were held ; that we should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter.
Page 325 - What I've committed to His hands, Till the decisive hour. 4 Then will He own my worthless name Before His Father's face, And in the New Jerusalem Appoint my soul a place.
Page 183 - Fool'd by these rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end ? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; Within be fed, without be rich no more : So shalt thou feed...
Page 327 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. 4 My soul looks back to see The burdens thou didst bear, When hanging on th' accursed tree ; And hopes her guilt was there.
Page 100 - But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began; The winds, with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kist, Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
Page 27 - Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...