Literary gleanings, by an invalid (F.H. Henslowe).


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Side 13 - caught and kept it as his prey ; His eyes dismount the highest star, He is in little all the sphere. Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they Find their acquaintance there. For us the winds do blow, The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains How. Nothing we see but means our good, As
Side 11 - and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude; Where with her beat nurse, contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd.
Side 185 - Child. WE live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives Who thinks most—feels the noblest—acts the
Side 164 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells, Between the banks which bear the vine; And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine; And scatter'd cities crowning these,
Side 193 - shake. Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me, Though parted, it was not to fly, Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me, Nor mute, that the world might belie. Yet I blame not the world, nor despise it, Nor the war of the many with one, If my soul was not fitted to prize it,
Side 177 - art true— Verse that immortalizes whom it sings! But them hast little need; there is a book By seraphs writ, with beams of heavenly light, On which the eyes of God not rarely look, A chronicle of actions, just and bright; There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine, And since thou own'st that praise, I spare
Side 77 - In every clime, in every age, Thou charm'st in fancy's idle dream, In reason's philosophic page; That very law which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source— That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
Side 111 - THE mind, which is immortal, makes itself Requital for its good or evil thoughts— Is its own origin of ill and end— And its own place and time—its innate sense, When stripped of this mortality, derives No color from the fleeting things without, But is absorbed in sufferance or joy Born from the knowledge of its own
Side 203 - her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And in clear dream and solemn vision Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear; Till oft converse with heavenly habitants Begins to cast a beam on th* outward shape, The unpolluted temple of the mind, And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, Till all be made immortal. Milton.
Side 18 - THE quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth as the gentle dew from heaven Upon the place beneath ; it is twice bless'd : It blesseth him that gives, and him

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