Mirror

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Page 266 - And he gave it for his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.
Page 119 - Through the high wood echoing shrill. Sometime walking, not unseen, By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great sun begins his state...
Page 119 - And, missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Page 183 - Now Spring returns: but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known ; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.
Page 66 - O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth, in thy awful beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But thou thyself movest alone: who can be a companion of thy course!
Page 221 - forgive these tears; assist Thy servant to lift up his soul to Thee; to lift to Thee the souls of Thy people! My friends! it is good so to do: at all seasons it is good, but in the days of our distress what a privilege it is! Well saith the sacred book, Trust in the Lord; at all times trust in the Lord.
Page 66 - The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains themselves decay with years; the ocean shrinks and grows again; the moon herself is lost in heaven, but thou art for ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.
Page 66 - When the world is dark with tempests, when thunder rolls, and lightning flies, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm.
Page 183 - Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! Enough for me the church-yard's lonely mound, Where Melancholy with still Silence reigns, And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground.
Page 187 - And a few friends, and many books, both true, Both wise, and both delightful too! And since love ne'er will from me flee, A Mistress moderately fair, And good as guardian angels are, Only beloved and loving me.

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