Diary of mrs. Kitty Trevylyan, by the author of 'Chronicles of the Schönberg-Cotta family'.

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Page 37 - BLESSED is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile.
Page 61 - Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake. Rejoice ye in that day, and leap for joy: for, behold, your reward is great in heaven: for in the like manner did their fathers unto the prophets.
Page 338 - Thou art a day of mirth ; And where the week-days trail on ground, Thy flight is higher, as thy birth : O let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from seven to seven, Till that we both, being tossed from earth, Fly hand in hand to heaven ! AVARICE.
Page 196 - And in that day thou shalt say, O Lord, I will praise thee : though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou comfortedst me. Behold, God is my salvation ; I will trust, and not be afraid ; for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song ; he also is become my salvation.
Page 97 - Jesus took once a little child and set him in the midst of the people, and said, "except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven...
Page ix - GRANT, we beseech Thee, merciful Lord, to Thy faithful people pardon and peace, that they may be cleansed from all their sins, and serve Thee with a quiet mind ; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Page 237 - Yield to me now, for I am weak, But confident in self-despair; Speak to my heart, in blessings speak, Be conquered by my instant prayer; Speak, or thou never hence shalt move, And tell me if thy name is Love.
Page 237 - tis Love! Thou diedst for me! I hear Thy whisper in my heart! The morning breaks, the shadows flee; Pure universal Love Thou art ! To me, to all, Thy bowels move; Thy nature, and Thy name, is Love!
Page 56 - ... not an open enemy, that hath done me this dishonour : for then I could have borne it.
Page 339 - MY joy, my life, my crown ! My heart was meaning all the day, Somewhat it fain would say : And still it runneth muttering up and down With only this, My joy, my life, my crown ! Yet slight not these few words ; If truly said, they may take part Among the best in art.

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