Six Months in the Apennines; Or, A Pilgrimage in Search of Vestiges of the Irish Saints in Italy

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George Bell and Sons, 1892 - Art, Irish - 313 pages
 

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Page 71 - When I was a child, I spake as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child : now that I am become a man, I have put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then shall I know even as also I have been known.
Page 15 - The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.
Page 304 - No reptiles are found there and no snake can live there; for though often carried thither out of Britain, as soon as the ship comes near the shore and the scent of the air reaches them, they die.
Page 112 - Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly : thou settlest the furrows thereof: thou makest it soft with showers: thou blessest the springing thereof. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drop fatness.
Page 238 - Far westward lies an isle of ancient fame, By Nature blessed — Hibernia is her name. Enrolled in books — exhaustless is her store Of veiny silver and of golden ore. Her fruitful soil for ever teems with wealth. With gems her waters, and her air with health ; Her verdant fields with milk and honey flow, Her woolly fleeces vie with virgin snow ; Her waving furrows float with bended corn, And arms and arts her envied sons adorn.
Page 270 - O'er Doccia's dell, and fig and olive blend. There the twin streams in Affrico unite, One dimly seen, the other out of sight, But ever playing in his smoothen'd bed Of polisht stone, and willing to be led Where clustering vines protect him from the sun, Never too grave to smile, too tired to run. Here, by the lake, Boccaccio's Fair Brigade Beguiled the hours and tale for tale repaid.
Page 216 - He, Ransomer from death, and Light from shade, Now gives His holy grace His saints to aid. Approach ye then with faithful hearts sincere, And take the safeguard of salvation here.
Page 216 - DRAW nigh and take the Body of the Lord, And drink the holy Blood for you outpoured.
Page 211 - And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, they spied a band of men ; and they cast the man into the sepulchre of Elisha : and when the man was let down, and touched the bones of Elisha. he revived, and stood up on his feet.
Page 270 - I leave thee, beauteous Italy ! no more From the high terraces, at even-tide, To look supine into thy depths of sky, Thy golden* moon between the cliff and me, Or thy dark spires of fretted cypresses Bordering the channel of the milky-way Fiesole and Valdarno must be dreams Hereafter, and my own lost Affrico Murmur to me but in the poet's song.

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