The Monthly Chronicle of North Country Lore and Legend, Volume 5

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Walter Scott, 1891 - Northumberland (England)
 

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Page 420 - Dreams, books, are each a world ; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good : Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
Page 180 - But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement of our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.
Page 243 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Page 244 - Where Universal Love not smiles around, Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns ; From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression. — But I lose Myself in Him, in Light ineffable ! Come, then, expressive silence, muse his praise FROM THE
Page 243 - With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year ; And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks : And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales.
Page 419 - Magnificent The morning rose, in memorable pomp, Glorious as e'er I had beheld -in front The sea lay laughing at a distance; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light; And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And labourers going forth to till the fields.
Page 243 - Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant, barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song, — where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on the...
Page 419 - Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And labourers going forth to till the fields. Ah ! need I say, dear Friend ! that to the brim My heart was full ; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me ; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit. On I walked In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.
Page 419 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

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