A Tour in Ireland;: With Meditations and Reflections

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S. Highley, 32, Fleet Street., 1844 - 371 pages
 

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Page 293 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Page 52 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Page 321 - ... by the Spirit of God. And is it not so, clearly? That which caused your men to storm so courageously, it was the Spirit of God, who gave your men courage, and took it away again; and gave the Enemy courage, and took it away again; and gave your men courage again, and therewith this happy success. And therefore it is good that God alone have all the glory.
Page 320 - And now give me leave to say how it comes to pass that this work is wrought. It was set upon some of our hearts, That a great thing should be done, not by power or might, but by the Spirit of God.
Page 191 - But it may be asked : What has all this to do with the enormous American turnover ? The author thinks that it has everything to do with it.
Page 52 - Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill. Oh! no - it was something more exquisite still. 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms of Nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Page 286 - the Universal Cause Acts not by partial but by general laws,' And makes what happiness we justly call Subsist not in the good of one, but all.
Page 217 - Its real use is to warn us against the abuse of the more popular adage that " a man has a right to do as he likes with his own," which errs much more dangerously on the other side.
Page 338 - Where, as to shame the temples deck'd By skill of earthly architect, Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise A Minster to her Maker's praise ! Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and swells, And still, between each awful pause, From the high vault an answer draws. In varied tone prolong'd and high, That mocks the organ's melody.
Page 41 - ... in such abhorrence, that he detested all cattle on their account, and would not permit a cow to come within sight of his sacred walls; because...

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