Hindu Literature, Or, The Ancient Books of India

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S.C. Griggs, 1890 - 410 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 57 - And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse ; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war. His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were many crowns ; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he himself.
Pàgina 100 - The children gather wood, and the fathers kindle the fire, and the women knead their dough, to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods, that they may provoke me to anger.
Pàgina 20 - The mighty Varuna, who rules above, looks down Upon these worlds, his kingdom, as if close at hand. When men imagine they do aught by stealth, he knows it. No one can stand, or walk, or softly glide along, Or hide in dark recess, or lurk in secret cell, But Varuna detects him, and his movements spies. Two persons may devise some plot, together sitting, And think themselves alone; but he, the king, is there — A third— and sees it all.
Pàgina 156 - By thy own soul ! by those who gave thee breath ! By all the sacred prevalence of prayer ; Ah, leave me not for Grecian dogs to tear ! The common rites of sepulture bestow, To soothe a father's and a mother's woe; 430 Let their large gifts procure an urn at least, And Hector's ashes in his country rest.
Pàgina 85 - The embodied spirit has a thousand heads, A thousand eyes, a thousand feet, around On every side enveloping the earth, Yet filling space no larger than a span. He is himself this very universe; He is whatever is, has been, and shall be; He is the lord of immortality.
Pàgina 38 - Hail, Ushas, daughter of the sky, Who, borne upon thy shining car By ruddy steeds from realms afar, And ever lightening drawest nigh ; — " Thou sweetly smilest, goddess fair, Disclosing all thy youthful grace, Thy bosom bright, thy radiant face, And lustre of thy golden hair...
Pàgina 167 - One only way I find To slay this fiend of evil mind. He prayed me once his life to guard From demon, God, and heavenly bard, And spirits of the earth and air, And I consenting heard his prayer. But the proud giant in his scorn Recked not of man of woman born. None else may take his life away, But only man the fiend may slay.
Pàgina 92 - A wife is half the man, his truest friend; A loving wife is a perpetual spring Of virtue, pleasure, wealth; a faithful wife Is his best aid in seeking heavenly bliss; A sweetly-speaking wife is a companion In solitude, a father in advice, A mother in all seasons of distress, A rest in passing through life's wilderness.
Pàgina 345 - Better to do the duty of one's caste ' , Though bad and ill-performed and fraught with evil, Than undertake the business of another, However good it be. For better far Abandon life at once than not fulfil One's own appointed work ; another's duty Brings danger to the man who meddles with it. Perfection is alone attained by him Who swerves not from the business of his caste.
Pàgina 112 - There is one only Being who exists Unmoved, yet moving swifter than the mind ; Who far outstrips the senses, though as gods They strive to reach him ; who himself at rest Transcends the fleetest flight of other beings ; Who, like the air, supports all vital action. He moves, yet moves not; he...

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