The Arminian Magazine: Consisting of Extracts and Original Treatises on Universal Redemption

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J. Fry & Company in Queen-Street: and sold at the Foundery, near Upper-Moor-Fields, and by the booksellers in town and country - Biographies
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Page 500 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. " For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go." " Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.
Page 501 - No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn: Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them : "But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring; A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ; All earth-born cares are wrong; Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Page 330 - She was dressed in black, her skin was contracted into a thousand wrinkles, her eyes deep sunk in her head, and her complexion pale and livid as the countenance of death. Her looks were filled with terror and unrelenting severity, and her hands armed with whips and scorpions.
Page 71 - For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away : but the Word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the Word which by the Gospel is preached unto you.
Page 616 - Even such is man; who lives by breath, Is here, now there, in life, and death. The grass withers, the tale is ended; The bird is flown, the dew's ascended; The hour is short, the span not long; The swan's near death; man's life is done.
Page 611 - Our portion is not large, indeed ; But then, how little do we need, For nature's calls are few ! In this the art of living lies, To want no more than may suffice, And make that little do.
Page 611 - And crown our hoary hairs ; They'll grow in virtue every day, And thus our fondest loves repay, And recompense our cares. No borrow'd joys ! they're all our own, While to the world we live unknown, Or by the world forgot...
Page 117 - Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the orna-ment of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.
Page 52 - The medal, faithful to its charge of fame, Through climes and ages bears each form and name: In one short view subjected to our eye, Gods, emperors, heroes, sages, beauties, lie. With sharpen'd sight pale antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore.
Page 502 - Around, in sympathetic mirth, Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth, The crackling faggot flies. But nothing could a charm impart To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest : " And whence, unhappy youth," he cried, " The sorrows of thy breast ? " From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove?

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