Proverbs, Maxims, and Phrases of All Ages: Classified Subjectively and Arranged Alphabetically, 1–2 tomai

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G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1887 - 602 psl.

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364 psl. - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
121 psl. - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
iv psl. - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law...
444 psl. - Sir, a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well ; but you are surprised to find it done at all.
243 psl. - Macbeth does murder sleep;' the innocent sleep : Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course ; Chief nourisher in life's feast.
457 psl. - They talk about a woman's sphere. As though it had a limit; There's not a place in earth or heaven, There's not a task to mankind given, There's not a blessing or a woe, There's not a whisper, Yes or No, There's not a life, or death, or birth, That has a feather's weight of worth, Without a woman in it.
96 psl. - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tarn maun ride — That hour o...
348 psl. - Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain,' And dies among his worshippers.
2 psl. - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
300 psl. - 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.

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