Letters from a stranger in Ireland, by G.W.

الغلاف الأمامي
G. Morrish, 1885 - 108 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 60 - When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us: and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are...
الصفحة 14 - He giveth snow like wool : He scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. He casteth forth His ice like morsels : Who can stand before His cold? He sendeth out His word, and melteth them : He causeth His wind to blow, and the waters flow.
الصفحة 32 - 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.
الصفحة 36 - As for man, his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth : For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
الصفحة 28 - Father William replied, I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, That I never might need them at last. You are old, Father William, the young man cried, And pleasures with youth pass away ; And yet you lament not the days that are gone Now tell me the reason, I pray.
الصفحة 26 - Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, Like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.
الصفحة 23 - Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the LORD.
الصفحة 47 - Their chorus of rapture sung jovial and loud ; From the soft vernal sky to the soft grassy ground, There was beauty above me, beneath, and around. The mild southern breeze brought a shower from the hill, And yet, though it left me all dripping and chill, I felt a new pleasure, as onward I sped, To gaze where the rainbow gleamed broad over head.
الصفحة 28 - William, the young man cried, And life must be hastening away ; You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death! Now tell me the reasoa, I pray. I am cheerful, young man, Father William replied; Let the cause thy attention engage ; In the days of my youth I remember'd my God!
الصفحة 38 - The sparrow has a nest of hay, With feathers warmly lined ; The ring-dove's careless nest of sticks, On lofty trees we find.

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