The Spectator [by J. Addison and others] with sketches of the lives of the authors, and explanatory notes. 12 vols. [in 6]., Volumes 9-10

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Page 243 - I have set the LORD always before me : because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Page 91 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Page 249 - To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong, Within doors, or without, still as a fool, In power of others, never in my own; Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! O first created beam, and thou great Word, Let there be light, and light was over all; Why am I thus bereaved Thy prime decree?
Page 213 - And nightly to the list'ning earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Page 66 - How are Thy servants blest, O Lord How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide, Their help, Omnipotence. 2 In foreign realms and lands remote, Supported by Thy care, Through burning climes they pass unhurt, And breathe in tainted air. 3...
Page 91 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For Thou, O Lord, art with me still : Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Page 227 - Alas, poor Yorick ! — I knew him, Horatio ; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand I times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now 1 your gambols ? your songs ? ' your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the.
Page 67 - For though in dreadful whirls we hung High on the broken wave, I knew thou wert not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save.
Page 214 - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
Page 205 - I seen also under the sun, and it seemed great unto me: there was a little city, and few men within it; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it: now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city; yet no man remembered that same poor man. Then said I, "Wisdom is better than strength: nevertheless the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.

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