Burford Cottage, and Its Robin-red-breast

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T. Tegg and Son, 1835 - Birds - 476 pages
 

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Page 326 - Where Angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Page 324 - Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
Page 24 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains : and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive...
Page 330 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
Page 460 - And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him; and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.
Page 321 - Thus, while the mute creation downward bend Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his own hereditary skies.
Page 296 - Tamed by the cruel season, crowd around The winnowing store, and claim the little boon Which Providence assigns them. One alone, The redbreast, sacred to the household gods. Wisely regardful of th...
Page 468 - God who makes the sun to know His proper hour to rise, And to give light to all below, Doth send him round the skies. When from the chambers of the east His morning race begins, He never tires, nor stops to rest ; But round the world he shines.
Page 325 - Up led by thee Into the heaven of heavens I have presumed, An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air, Thy tempering; with like safety guided down Return me to my native element: Lest from this flying steed unreined, (as once Bellerophon, though from a lower clime) Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall Erroneous there to wander and forlorn.
Page 449 - Read Homer once, and you can read no more ; For all books else appear so mean, so poor, Verse will seem prose : but still persist to read. And Homer will be all the books you need.

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