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Página 106 - ... insignificant, and I have never thought of them since. Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and befriended me. I was so distinctly made aware of the presence of something kindred to me, even in scenes which we are accustomed to call wild and dreary, and also that the nearest of blood to me and humanest was not a person nor a villager, that I thought no place could ever be strange to me again. " Mourning untimely consumes the sad ; Few are their days in the land of the living,...
Página 196 - Man, by his fall into a state of sin, hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation; so as a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto.
Página 166 - Whatever power such a being may have over me, there is one thing which he shall not do : he shall not compel me to worship him. I will call no being good, who is not what I mean when I apply that epithet to my fellowcreatures ; and if such a being can sentence me to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will go.
Página 210 - Tell how, disdaining all earth can give. He would have taught men from wisdom's pages The way to live. And tell how trampled, derided, hated. And worn by weakness, disease and wrong, He fled for shelter to God, who mated His soul with song...
Página 106 - In the midst of a gentle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was suddenly sensible of such sweet and beneficent society in Nature, in the very pattering of the drops, and in every sound and sight around my house, an infinite and unaccountable friendliness [2061 all at once like an atmosphere sustaining me, as made the fancied advantages of human neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them since.
Página 310 - Matter, then, may be defined, a Permanent Possibility of Sensation. If I am asked, whether I believe in matter, I ask whether the questioner accepts this definition of it. If he does, I believe in matter : and so do all Berkeleians. In any other sense than this, I do not.
Página 210 - Nameless, condemned for years long To herd with demons from hell beneath, Saw things that made him, with groans and tears, long For even death. Go on to tell how, with genius wasted, Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love, With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted, He still, still strove. Till, spent with toil, dreeing death for others, And some whose hands should have wrought for him (If children live not for sires and mothers), His mind grew dim.
Página 211 - ... and ghastly starkness, Stood on his path. And tell how now, amid wreck and sorrow, And want, and sickness, and houseless nights, He bides in calmness the silent morrow, That no ray lights. And lives he still, then ? Yes ! Old and hoary At thirty-nine, from despair and woe, He lives, enduring what future story Will never know. Him grant a grave to, ye pitying noble, Deep in your bosoms : there let him dwell ! He, too, had tears for all souls in trouble, Here and in hell.
Página 115 - I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
Página 210 - How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom, No star of all heaven sends to light our Path to the tomb. Roll on, my song, and to after ages Tell how, disdaining all earth can give, He would have taught men, from wisdom's pages, The way to live. And tell how trampled, derided, hated, And worn by weakness, disease, and wrong...