The Irish Dove, Or, Faults on Both Sides: A Tale

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J. Robertson, 1849 - 306 pagine
 

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Pagina 53 - great multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues," who, " clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands," shall stand " before the throne and before the Lamb," and cry, " Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb.
Pagina 210 - unconsciously pointed to one of the marks by which his church is identified in Scripture, " That no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark or the name of the
Pagina 4 - having burned to the sockets, suddenly became extinguished, and left me to continue my cogitations in the dark: " The clock strikes One : we take no note of time, But from its loss.
Pagina 265 - that book has sent into my soul, has just served to shew the darkness of it; and the Saviour is not in that vile, dark place," said he, laying his emaciated hand on his heart; " there's nothing there but doubts and fears, that leave me no rest night or day." " ' Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavyladen, and I will give you rest,
Pagina 17 - the ages," "for such there were, when Ireland was the school of the west, the quiet habitation of sanctity and learning." Even were Irish the barbarous tongue which some assert it to be, but which the preceding testimony
Pagina 272 - with every association of happiness—with every tender remembrance; and as the billows rocked them to repose on Ocean's heaving bosom, " They dreamt of their home, of their dear native bowers, And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn; While Memory stood sideways, half covered with flowers, And restored every rose, but secreted each thorn!" CHAPTER XI. THE sun was gently sinking to rest behind the
Pagina 12 - and all deserving of increased means to enable them to extend their usefulness; but there is one society, which for the object we have in view, has above all others, peculiar claims on our attention, our assistance, and our prayers. " The Society for instructing the native Irish through the medium of their own language
Pagina 189 - stronghold was crumbling from the mountain top above him. " MacCaura, the pride of thy house is gone by, But its name cannot fade, and its fame cannot die, Though the Arigideen* with its silver waves, shine Around no green forests or castles of thine— Though the shrines that you founded, no incense doth hallow, Nor hymns float in peace down the echoing
Pagina 264 - who cannot do anything for yourself. He says, ' Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.' You feel yourself unable to stand before a God of perfect holiness; you know some intercessor is required;

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