Charles Kingsley: His Letters and Memoires of His Life, Volumen2

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H.S. King & Company, 1877
 

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Página 66 - And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear : ' O just and faithful knight of God ! Ride on ! the prize is near.
Página 42 - Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to GOD, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power. For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Página 464 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; More than all in Thee I find ; liaise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Página 451 - Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
Página 35 - O Lord, in thee have I trusted : let me never be confounded.
Página 19 - What we can we will be, Honest Englishmen. Do the work that's nearest, Though it's dull at whiles; Helping, when we meet them, Lame dogs over stiles ; See in every hedgerow Marks of angels...
Página 475 - When everything that is sincerely good And perfectly divine, With Truth, and peace, and Love shall ever shine About the supreme throne Of Him to...
Página 121 - The longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference between men, between the feeble and the powerful, the great and the insignificant, is energy — invincible determination ; a purpose once fixed and then death or victory. That quality will do anything that can be done in this world, and no talents, no circumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature a man without it.
Página 409 - Thou makest darkness, that it may be night ; wherein all the beasts of the forest do move. 21 The lions, roaring after their prey, do seek their meat from GOD.
Página 302 - The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark.

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