Izaak Walton and His Friends

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Chapman & Hall, limited, 1904 - 263 pages
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Page 226 - WILT Thou forgive that sin, where I begun, Which was my sin though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, For I have more.
Page 234 - Not so, my heart: but there is fruit, And thou hast hands. Recover all thy sigh-blown age On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute Of what is fit, and not; forsake thy cage, Thy rope of sands, Which...
Page 53 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Page 240 - How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will, Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill!
Page 16 - There are in this loud stunning tide Of human care and crime, With whom the melodies abide Of th' everlasting chime ; Who carry music in their heart Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, Plying their daily task with busier feet, Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.
Page 236 - I aspire To a full consent. Not a word or look I affect to own, But by book, And Thy book alone. Though I fail, I weep ; Though I halt in pace, Yet I creep To the throne of grace.
Page 232 - Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in any thing To do it as for Thee.
Page 228 - As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say 'The breath goes now,' and some say 'No'; So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th...
Page 35 - All these, and many more of His creation That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see ; Taking therein no little delectation, To think how strange, how wonderful, they be ! Framing thereof an inward contemplation, To set his heart from other fancies free ; And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye, His mind is rapt above the starry sky.
Page 242 - Thinking your passions understood By your weak accents; what's your praise When Philomel her voice shall raise ? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...

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