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I leaned against the window as we went. And saw the city mist recede afar, And lost the busy hum which haunts the mind As a voice inarticulate, the tone Of many men whose mouths speak distinct words Which blend in grim confusion, till the sound Like a vague aspiration climbs the sky.
I my grateful voice would blend, With nature's loud thanksgiving; Praises through the earth would send For the bliss of living. Then, God, look on me, From Thy throne eternal, Make pure unto Thee, This my hymn diurnal. On the wings of morning, With songs of birds up-soaring, I address Thee, Praise and bless Thee, Joying and adoring.
It is strange how rarely the work of man will really harmonize with Nature. The beaver builds, and his work will blend. Man builds, and it jars very likely because he mostly builds with silly pretensions. But in winter Nature breathes upon his handiwork and transforms it.
I had laid in a large supply of the national beverage, in the shape of The "Rob Roy MacGregor O" Blend, Warranted Old and Vatted; and this must certainly have been a generous spirit, for I had some anxious work between four and half-past, conveying on board the inanimate forms of chieftains.
Here the predication is of species in the subjective sense, the inference in the objective sense. Reduced to plain terms, the argument seems to be: Species are ideas; therefore the objects from which the idea is derived cannot vary or blend, and cannot have had a genealogical connection.
To reconcile and blend the two systems became, in many of these, a necessity. To do this required a knowledge of both on the part of the judges, and this knowledge, in order that no error might misdirect, should be thorough. It was happily accomplished, and now the system is clear and fixed, and will remain a monument to the learning and genius of this court.
Next he considered Davis, with his thick-fingered, coarse-grained, oat-bread commonness of nature, his indomitable valour and mirth in the old days of their starvation, the endearing blend of his faults and virtues, the sudden shining forth of a tenderness that lay too deep for tears; his children, Adar and her bowel complaint, and Adar's doll.
Piers looked for a moment as if he were on the verge of rebellion, then abruptly he raised the cup to his lips and drained it. He set it down with a shudder of distaste. "You might have let me have it separately," he remarked. "Tea and brandy don't blend well. I shall sleep like a hog after this. Besides, I shouldn't have had rheumatic fever. It's not my way. Anything in the paper to-night?"
And, striking an attitude which was a boisterous reminiscence of Macready, the old wanderer flung out the lines: 'Alas! when mingling souls forget to blend, Death hath but little left him to destroy. Ah! happy years! Once more, who would not be a boy? David laughed out. Daddy turned petulantly away, and looked out of window. The night was dreary, dark, and wet. 'Dora! 'Yes, father.
Whatever our need, we would at once seek His august presence, and obtain His counsel and assistance. How extraordinary is our behavior then with respect to prayer, and that we make so little of our opportunities of access into the presence of our Father, in whom wisdom, power, and love blend perfectly, and who is always willing to hear us nay, is perpetually urging us to come!
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