The Boy's Yearly Book

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S.O. Beeton, 1863
 

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Seite 254 - ... they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword, they wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented, (of whom the world was not worthy,) they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens, and caves of the earth.
Seite 267 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells ! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells ! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright ! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune ! In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Seite 270 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down...
Seite 57 - And the Gileadites took the passages of Jordan before the Ephraimites : and it was so, that when those Ephraimites which were escaped said, Let me go over ; that the men of Gilead said unto him, Art thou an Ephraimite ? If he said, Nay ; then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth : and he said Sibboleth : for he could not frame to pronounce it right. Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan : and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand.
Seite 283 - Woe unto you that are full! for ye shall hunger. Woe unto you that laugh now! for ye shall mourn and weep. 26 Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.
Seite 121 - I AM old and blind! Men point at me as smitten by God's frown; Afflicted and deserted of my kind, Yet I am not cast down. I am weak, yet strong; I murmur not that I no longer see; Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong, Father Supreme! to thee.
Seite 294 - Hear my prayer, O Lord, and with Thine ears consider my calling : hold not Thy peace at my tears. For I am a stranger with Thee : and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
Seite 80 - Nay, I can tell you more," said Wamba, in the same tone; there is old Alderman Ox continues to hold his Saxon epithet, while he is under the charge of serfs and bondsmen such as thou, but becomes Beef, a fiery French gallant, when he arrives before the worshipful jaws that are destined to consume him. Mynheer Calf, too, becomes Monsieur de Veau in the like manner; he is Saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name when he becomes matter of enjoyment.
Seite 314 - A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers : To himself he talks; For at eventide, listening earnestly, At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks; Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks Of the mouldering flowers : Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.
Seite 95 - I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any. He was (indeed) honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions...

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