The Works of Anna Lætitia Barbauld, Volume 2

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, 1825
 

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Page 430 - And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.
Page 431 - But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth : for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit : and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.
Page 213 - Till, by degrees, the floating mirror shines, Reflects each flower that on the border grows, And a new heaven in its fair bosom shows.
Page 455 - One likes the Pheasant's wing, and one the leg; The vulgar boil, the learned roast an egg; Hard task!
Page 441 - If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be : In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
Page 170 - does Virtue then reside in the vale ?" "I am found," said she, "in the vale, and I illuminate the mountain. I cheer the cottager at his toil, and inspire the sage at his meditation. I mingle in the crowd of cities, and bless the hermit in his cell. I have a temple in every heart that owns my influence, and to hkn that wishes for me, I am already present. Science may raise thee to eminence ; but I alone can guide thee to felicity!
Page 244 - This day is called the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian." Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Page 134 - My DEAR FRIEND, — I was just going to write to you when I received your letter. I was waiting till I had got away from Concord. I should have sent you something for the " Dial " before, but I have been sick ever since I came here, rather unaccountably, — what with a cold, bronchitis, acclimation, etc., still unaccountably. I send you some verses from my journal which...
Page 189 - And why can you not ? What hinders you from discarding this troublesome scrupulosity of yours which stands so grievously in your way ? If it be a small thing to enjoy a healthful mind, sound at the very core, that does not shrink from the keenest inspection; inward freedom from remorse and perturbation; unsullied whiteness and simplicity of manners; a genuine integrity, " Pure in the last recesses of the mind ; " if you think these advantages an inadequate recompense for what you resign, dismiss...
Page 165 - I saw that the only regular approach to the mountain was by a gate, called the Gate of Languages. It was kept by a woman of a pensive and thoughtful appearance, whose lips were continually moving, as though she repeated something to herself. Her name was Memory. On entering this first...

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