Memoirs of the forty-five first years of the life of James Lackington, bookseller. Written by himself, in 47 letters to a friend

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Whittaker Treacher & Arnot, 1827
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Pàgina 344 - The burden of them is intolerable. Have mercy upon us, Have mercy upon us, most merciful Father; For thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ's sake, Forgive us all that is past; And grant that we may ever hereafter Serve and please thee In newness of life, To the honour and glory of thy name; Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Pàgina 93 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe th' enlivening spirit and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Pàgina 105 - Some place the bliss in action, some in ease, Those call it Pleasure, and Contentment these...
Pàgina 158 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Pàgina 165 - Here will I hold. If there's a power above us — And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works — He must delight in virtue; And that which He delights in must be happy.
Pàgina 291 - Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose. I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my...
Pàgina 240 - Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! * Each stamps its image as the other flies.
Pàgina 220 - Mankind's dishonest; if you think it fair Amongst known cheats to play upon the square, You'll be undone — Nor can weak truth your reputation save: The knaves will all agree to call you knave. Wrong'd shall he live, insulted o'er, opprest, Who dares be less a villain than the rest.
Pàgina 110 - She never feels the spleen's imagin'd pains, Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins ; She never loses life in thoughtless ease, Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ; Her home-spun dress in simple neatness lies, And for no glaring equipage she sighs : Her reputation, which is all her boast, In a malicious visit ne'er was lost ; No midnight masquerade her beauty wears, And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs.
Pàgina 50 - For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right...

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