Miscellanies, Old and New

Portada
T. Whittaker, 1876 - 258 páginas
 

Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario

No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.

Páginas seleccionadas

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 217 - There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed by the creator into a few forms or into one; and that, while this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.
Página 189 - Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundations of the earth ; and the heavens are the work of thine hands...
Página 258 - Thy flame is blown abroad from all the heights, Through all the nations, and a sound is heard, As of a mighty wind, and men devout, Strangers of Rome, and the new proselytes, In their own language hear thy wondrous word, And many are amazed and many doubt.
Página 201 - These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth when they were created in the day that the LORD God made the earth and the heavens...
Página 257 - And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers! But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers! Ah!
Página 200 - Every rank of creatures, as it ascends in the scale of creation, leaves death behind it or under it. The metal at its height of being seems a mute prophecy of the coming vegetation, into a mimic semblance of which it crystallizes.
Página 253 - Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.
Página 192 - a type distinguishable from a fragment of albumen only by its finely granular character.
Página 240 - The rights of Monarchy, the Heavens, the Stream of Fire, the Pit, In vision seen, I sang as far as to the Fates seemed fit; But since my soul, an alien here, hath flown to nobler wars, And, happier now, hath gone to seek its Maker 'mid the stars, Here am I, Dante, shut, exiled from the ancestral shore, Whom Florence, the of all least-loving mother, bore.
Página 244 - twill give us If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe us With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.

Información bibliográfica