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Seite 352 - The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly grace of faith, makes up the highest perfection.
Seite 394 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee; Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Seite 393 - SEE what a lovely shell, Small and pure as a pearl, Lying close to my foot, Frail, but a work divine, Made so fairily well With delicate spire and whorl, How exquisitely minute, A miracle of design ! 2 What is it ? a learned man Could give it a clumsy name.
Seite 16 - Many of the greatest men that ever lived have written biography. Boswell was one of the smallest men that ever lived, and he has beaten them all.
Seite 399 - Hervey,. would you know the passion You have kindled in my breast ? Trifling is the inclination That by words can be express'd. In my silence see the lover ; True love is by silence known : In my eyes you'll best discover All the power of your own.
Seite 273 - Yes, I agree, he is certainly more agreeable since his return from India. His enemies might perhaps have said before (though I never did so) that he talked rather too much ; but now he has occasional flashes of silence, that make his conversation perfectly delightful.
Seite 352 - But because our understanding cannot in this body found itself but on sensible things, nor arrive so clearly to the knowledge of God and things invisible, as by orderly conning over the visible and inferior creature, the same method is necessarily to be followed in all discreet teaching.
Seite 393 - Is that enchanted moan only the swell Of the long waves that roll in yonder bay? And hark the clock within, the silver knell Of twelve sweet hours that past in bridal white, And died to live, long as my pulses play ; But now by this my love has closed her sight And give,.
Seite 275 - We talk of human life as a journey, but how variously is that journey performed ! There are some who come forth girt, and shod, and mantled, to walk on velvet lawns and smooth terraces, where every gale is arrested, and every beam is tempered. There are others who walk on the Alpine paths of life, against driving misery, and through stormy sorrows, over sharp afflictions ; walk with bare feet, and naked breast, jaded, mangled, and chilled.