The Hive: Or, A Collection of Thoughts on Civil, Moral, Sentimental and Religious Subjects: Selected from the Writings of Near One Hundred of the Best Authors of Different Nations; But Chiefly from the English Writers. Intended as a Repository of Sententious, Ingenious, and Pertinent Sayings, in Verse and Prose...

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Lincoln & Gleason, printers, Printed for and sold by Oliver D. Cooke, 1803 - 216 من الصفحات
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 62 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
الصفحة 118 - Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto them ; for this is the law and the prophets.
الصفحة 31 - With friendship, peace, and contemplation join'd, How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop In deep retir'd distress. How many stand Around the death-bed of their dearest friends, And point the parting anguish. Thought fond man Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills, That one incessant struggle render life, One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate...
الصفحة 42 - INQUIRIES after happiness, and rules for attaining it, are not so necessary and useful to mankind as the arts of consolation, and supporting one's self under affliction. The utmost we can hope for in this world is contentment ; if we aim at any thing higher, we shall meet with nothing but grief and disappointment. A man should direct all his studies and endeavours at making himself easy now, and happy hereafter.
الصفحة 200 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands : But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed, Oth.
الصفحة 189 - This my long sufferance and my day of grace They who neglect and scorn shall never taste , But hard be harden'd, blind be blinded more, That they may stumble on, and deeper fall ; And none but such from mercy I exclude.
الصفحة 30 - Ah ! little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death, And all the sad variety of pain. How many sink in the devouring flood, Or more devouring flame. How many bleed, By shameful variance betwixt man and man. How many pine in want, and dungeon glooms ; Shut from the common air, and common use Of their own limbs.
الصفحة 139 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
الصفحة 31 - E'en in the vale, where Wisdom loves to dwell, With friendship, peace, and contemplation join'd, How many, rack'd with honest passions, droop In deep retir'd distress. How many stand Around the death-bed of their dearest friends, And point the parting anguish. Thought fond Man Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills That one incessant struggle render life One scene of toil, of...
الصفحة 78 - Nor every friend unrotten at the core ; First, on thy friend, deliberate with thyself: Pause, ponder, sift ; not eager in the choice, Nor jealous of the chosen ; fixing, fix : Judge before friendship, then confide till death. Well, for thy friend ; but nobler far for thee : How gallant danger for earth's highest prize ! A friend is worth all hazards we can run. " Poor is the friendless master of a world : " A world in purchase for a friend is gain.

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