A series of genuine letters between Henry and Frances [by R. and E. Griffith].

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Pagina 209 - Let not this weak, unknowing hand Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land On each I judge thy foe. If I am right, thy grace impart, Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way...
Pagina 209 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, • This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heav'n pursue. What blessings thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away ; For God is paid when man receives, T
Pagina 66 - When you have proved that the three angles of every triangle are equal to two right angles...
Pagina 222 - In Pope I cannot read a line But, with a sigh, I wish it mine : When he can in one couplet fix More sense than I can do in six, It gives me such a jealous fit, I cry, "Pox take him and his wit.
Pagina 209 - Who all my fenfe confin'd To know but this, that thou art good, And that myfelf am blind ; Yet gave me, in this dark eftate, To fee the good from ill ; And binding nature faft in fate, Left free the human will.
Pagina 284 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot...
Pagina 210 - I am, not wholly fo, Since quick'ned by thy Breath ; O lead me wherefoe'er I go, Thro' this day's Life or Death. This day, be Bread and Peace my Lot : All elfe beneath the Sun, Thou know'ft if beft beftow'd or not, And let thy Will be done. To Thee, whofe Temple is all Space, Whofe Altar...
Pagina 210 - If I am wrong, oh teach my heart To find that better way. Save me alike from foolifh pride, Or impious difcontent, At aught thy wifdom has deny'd, Or aught thy goodnefs lent.
Pagina 266 - Those seats, whence long excluded thou must mourn ; That gate, for ever barr'd to thy return : Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love, And hate a banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove?
Pagina 209 - Thy goodnefs let me bound, Or think Thee Lord alone of man, When thoufand worlds are round. Let not this weak unknowing hand . Prefume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land, On each I judge thy foe.

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