Dr. Howell's Family ...

Forside
A. Williams and Company, 1881 - 361 sider
0 Anmeldelser
Anmeldelsene blir ikke bekreftet, men Google ser etter falskt innhold og fjerner slikt innhold som avdekkes

Inni boken

Hva folk mener - Skriv en omtale

Vi har ikke funnet noen omtaler på noen av de vanlige stedene.

Andre utgaver - Vis alle

Vanlige uttrykk og setninger

Populære avsnitt

Side 117 - Heaven is not reached at a single bound ; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
Side 262 - Let thy work appear unto thy servants, And thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us: And establish thou the work of our hands upon us; Yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.
Side 174 - Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Side 108 - CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill!
Side 23 - I count this thing to be grandly true : That a noble deed is a step toward God, Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view.
Side 243 - The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; Her tides have equal times to come and go, Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
Side 323 - Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength; but trusted in the abundance of his riches, and strengthened himself in his wickedness.
Side 287 - BE MERCIFUL unto me, O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusteth in thee: yea, in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast.
Side 164 - Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie. My music shows ye have your closes. And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Side 15 - She doeth little kindnesses, Which most leave undone, or despise: For naught that sets one heart at ease, And giveth happiness or peace, Is low-esteemed in her eyes.

Bibliografisk informasjon