Our Martyr President, Abraham Lincoln: Voices from the Pulpit of New York and Brooklyn

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Tibbals & Whiting, 1865 - 420 páginas
 

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Página 269 - The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places : how are the mighty fallen ! Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon ; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph.
Página 174 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Página 360 - I am the Lord, and there is none else, there is no God beside me: I girded thee, though thou hast not known me: That they may know from the rising of the sun, and from the west, that there is none beside me. I am the Lord, and there is none else. I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the Lord do all these things.
Página 361 - But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.
Página 205 - This is essentially a people's contest. On the side of the Union it is a struggle for maintaining in the world that form and substance of Government whose leading object is to elevate the condition of men ; to lift artificial weights from all shoulders ; to clear the paths of laudable pursuit for all; to afford all an unfettered start and a fair chance in the race of life.
Página 248 - that his ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts...
Página 344 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Página 201 - But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract.
Página 194 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Página 192 - But in the right to eat the bread, without the leave of anybody else, which his own hand earns, he is my equal and the equal of Judge Douglas, and the equal of every living man.

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