The Wanderer in Syria

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Richard Bentley, 1852 - Syria - 348 pages

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Page 174 - Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King.
Page 195 - The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the Publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.
Page 2 - For us the winds do blow, The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. Nothing we see but means our good, As our delight, or as our treasure ; The whole is either our cupboard of food, Or cabinet of pleasure.
Page 181 - Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass.
Page 258 - Ah! Then, if mine had been the Painter's hand, To express what then I saw, and add the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream; I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile Amid a world how different from this!
Page 65 - There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathing space I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race. Iron-jointed, supple-sinew'd, they shall dive, and they shall run, Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in' the sun; Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks, Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books...
Page 66 - AND the Lord appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day ; and he lift up his eyes and looked, and, lo, three men stood by him...
Page 272 - 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.
Page 231 - For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell, Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 231 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away ! for, lo ! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell.

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