Memorials of Horatio Balch Hackett

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George Henry Whittemore
1876 - 303 страници
 

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Страница 115 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
Страница 292 - Yon cottager who weaves at her own door, Pillow and bobbins all her little store, Content though mean, and cheerful, if not gay, Shuffling her threads about the live-long day, Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light...
Страница 193 - I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
Страница 141 - And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures?
Страница 34 - And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you ; but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high.
Страница 290 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise...
Страница 160 - It was the calmness of an intensity, kept uniform by the nature of the human mind forbidding it to be more, and by the character of the individual forbidding it to be less.
Страница 126 - But thy most dreaded instrument, In working out a pure intent, Is Man — arrayed for mutual slaughter, . Yea, Carnage is thy daughter...
Страница 233 - But still the branches, or stems of the branches, were not very large, or, apparently, very strong. Can the birds, I said to myself, rest upon them ? Are they not too slight and flexible ? Will they not bend or break beneath the superadded weight?
Страница 298 - A COMMENTARY ON THE ORIGINAL TEXT OF THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES. By Horatio B. Hackett, DD, Professor of Biblical Literature and Interpretation, in the Newton Theological Institution.

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