Kidd's Own Journal, Volume 3

Front Cover
William Spooner, 1853

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Page 274 - Evil into the mind of God or man May come and go, so unapprov'd, and leave No spot or blame behind...
Page 362 - For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that I do it, but sin that dwelleth in me.
Page 350 - The longer I live, the more I am certain that the great difference between men,— between the feeble and the powerful, the great and the insignificant, is energy — invincible determination. A purpose once fixed ; and then, — death or victory. That quality will do anything that can be done in this world ; and no talents, no circumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged creature a man without it.
Page 78 - The cheerful haunts of man ; to wield the axe And drive the wedge in yonder forest drear, From morn to eve his solitary task.
Page 362 - I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Page 131 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year.
Page 332 - Fear and trembling Hope, Silence and Foresight; Death the Skeleton And Time the Shadow ; — there to celebrate, As in a natural temple scattered o'er With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, United worship ; or in mute repose To lie, and listen to the mountain flood Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves.
Page 74 - A silent tarn below ; Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, Remote from public road or dwelling, Pathway or cultivated land, From trace of human foot or hand.
Page 335 - Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never the same for two moments together; almost human in its passions, almost spiritual in its tenderness, almost divine in its infinity, its appeal to what is immortal in us, is as distinct, as its ministry of chastisement ' or of blessing to what is mortal is essential.
Page 131 - HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove! Thou messenger of spring ! Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing. What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year? Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet, From birds among the bowers.

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