Ida May: A Story of Things Actual and Possible

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Phillips, Sampson, 1854 - 478 strani
 

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Stran 415 - Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me. I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned against him, until he plead my cause, and execute judgment for me: he will bring me forth to the light, and I shall behold his righteousness.
Stran 418 - Merciful Heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Stran 342 - There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, And fire out of his mouth devoured: Coals were kindled by it.
Stran 342 - The LORD rewarded me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me.
Stran 402 - This conclusion is founded on reason, justice, and necessity, and neither the contention that a man has a right to do what he will with his own...
Stran 342 - He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.
Stran 30 - But this is a people robbed and spoiled; they are all of them snared in holes, and they are hid in prison houses: they are for a prey, and none delivereth; for a spoil, and none saith, 'Restore.
Stran 344 - May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high ; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy ; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Stran 458 - Hark ! the loud-voiced bells Stream on the world around With the full wind, as it swells, Seas of sound ! It is a Voice that calls to onward years — ' Turn back, and when Delight is fled away Look through the evening mists of mortal tears On this immortal Day.
Stran 307 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.

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