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There is that vision of 'Christ the Less, a too hurriedly written ballad, where the half of Christ, sacrificed to the divine half 'that fled to seek felicity, wanders wailing through Golgotha; and there is 'The Saint and the Youth' in which I can discover no fault at all.
She has been here for more than two hundred years listening to her baby cry. Poor mother. The baby calls her and she wanders through the storm to find him. But she never sees, only hears him cry for her and God. Till the great Day of Judgment will the baby cry, and she pauvre mêre will pay the price of her sin, pay it out of her empty mother heart and hungry mother arms, that will not be filled.
A few more sweeps and the remains of the camp they had that morning left were before them, and Pierre could no longer repress his glee. "Good guide, you! Trust a know-it-all for making mistakes." "What does it mean?" demanded Adrian, angrily. "Nothing. Only you picked out a run-about, a little branch of river, that wanders out of course and then comes home again. Begins and ends the same.
Man's destiny for God is unmistakable. 'Whose image and superscription hath it? said Christ about the coin. 'Caesar's! 'Then give it to Caesar. Whose image and superscription hath my heart, this restless heart of mine, this spirit that wanders on through space and time, homeless and comfortless, until it can grasp the Eternal? Who are you meant for? God!
The frighted wolf now swims among the sheep, The yellow lion wanders in the deep; His rapid force no longer helps the boar, The stag swims faster than he ran before. The fowls, long beating on their wings in vain, Despair of land, and drop into the main. Now hills and vales no more distinction know, And levelled nature lies oppressed below.
But I had done as one who wanders and engraves his thought in rocky solitudes, and before I could change my course came care and labor and disease, and blocked the way before me, and bound me with the iron that eats itself into the soul. Then I said, 'How shall I save the life within me from being stifled with this stifled breath?"
These are hard truths, but the people of England must hear them. They must know that the wretched beggar who wanders about the streets of London in the rain, leads the life of a prince, compared with the British soldiers who are fighting out here for their country.
"Now, the lot of a nobler age is reversed; I am shut in a corner, I am like the fish that seeks shelter as it wanders to and fro hidden in the waters. "I, who used surely in the former age to lie back on a couch handsomely spread, am now thrust among the hindmost and driven from the crowded hall.
Your genius prompted you. Another had passed that way and had missed the prize. Indeed, the successful berry-picker, like Walton's angler, is born, not made. It is only another kind of angling. In the same field one boy gets big berries and plenty of them; another wanders up and down, and finds only a few little ones.
He had a kind heart and it was only his strict sense of duty that led him to mention the case of the Wanders, and particularly the unpermissible selling of the furniture, to the owner of the house. Stubbe had barely reached home before Wilhelm appeared in the Kochstrasse.
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