Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=407942" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Paraphrases from Scripture</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The day is thine, the night also is thine; thou hast prepared the<br>light and the sun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast made summer and<br>winter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">PSALM lxxiv. 16, 17.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My God! all nature owns thy sway,<br>Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day!<br>When all thy lov'd creation wakes,<br>When morning, rich in lustre breaks,<br>And bathes in dew the op'ning flower,<br>To thee we owe her fragrant hour;<br>And when she pours her choral song,<br>Her melodies to thee belong!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or when, in paler tints array'd,<br>The evening slowly spreads her shade;<br>That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,<br>Can more than day's enliv'ning bloom<br>Still every fond, and vain desire,<br>And calmer, purer, thoughts inspire;<br>From earth the pensive spirit free,<br>And lead the soften'd heart to Thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In every scene thy hands have drest,<br>In every form by thee imprest,<br>Upon the mountain's awful head,<br>Or where the shelt'ring woods are spread;<br>In every note that swells the gale,<br>Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,<br>The cavern's depth, or echoing grove,<br>A voice is heard of praise, and love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As o'er thy work the seasons roll,<br>And sooth with change of bliss, the soul,<br>Oh never may their smiling train<br>Pass o'er the human scene in vain!<br>But oft as on the charm we gaze,<br>Attune the wond'ring soul to praise;<br>And be the joys that most we prize,<br>The joys that from thy favour rise!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should<br>not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea,<br>they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ISAIAH xlix. 15.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heaven speaks! Oh Nature listen and rejoice!<br>Oh spread from pole to pole this gracious voice!<br>'Say every breast of human frame, that proves<br>'The boundless force with which a parent loves;<br>'Say, can a mother from her yearning heart<br>'Bid the soft image of her child depart?<br>'She! whom strong instinct arms with strength to bear<br>'All forms of ill, to shield that dearest care;<br>'She! who with anguish stung, with madness wild,<br>'Will rush on death to save her threaten'd child;<br>'All selfish feelings banish'd from her breast,<br>'Her life one aim to make another's blest.<br>'When her vex'd infant to her bosom clings,<br>'When round her neck his eager arms he flings;<br>'Breathes to her list'ning soul his melting sigh,<br>'And lifts suffus'd with tears his asking eye!<br>'Will she for all ambition can attain,<br>'The charms of pleasure, or the lures of gain,<br>'Betray strong Nature's feelings, will she prove<br>'Cold to the claims of duty, and of love?<br>'But should the mother from her yearning heart<br>'Bid the soft image of her child depart;<br>'When the vex'd infant to her bosom clings<br>'When round her neck his eager arms he flings;<br>'Should she unpitying hear his melting sigh,<br>'And view unmov'd the tear that fills his eye;<br>'Should she for all ambition can attain,<br>'The charms of pleasure, or the lures of gain,<br>'Betray strong Nature's feelings—should she prove<br>'Cold to the claims of duty, and of love!<br>'Yet never will the God, whose word gave birth<br>'To yon illumin'd orbs, and this fair earth;<br>'Who thro' the boundless depths of trackless space<br>'Bade new-wak'd beauty spread each perfect grace;<br>'Yet when he form'd the vast stupendous whole,<br>'Shed his best bounties on the human soul;<br>'Which reason's light illumes, which friendship warms,<br>'Which pity softens, and which virtue charms;<br>'Which feels the pure affections gen'rous glow,<br>'Shares others joy, and bleeds for others woe—<br>'Oh never will the gen'ral Father prove<br>'Of man forgetful, man the child of love!'<br>When all those planets in their ample spheres<br>Have wing'd their course, and roll'd their destin'd years;<br>When the vast sun shall veil his golden light<br>Deep in the gloom of everlasting night;<br>When wild, destructive flames shall wrap the skies,<br>When Chaos triumphs, and when Nature dies;<br>Man shall alone the wreck of worlds survive,<br>Midst falling spheres, immortal man shall live!<br>The voice which bade the last dread thunders roll,<br>Shall whisper to the good, and cheer their soul.<br>God shall himself his favour'd creature guide<br>Where living waters pour their blissful tide,<br>Where the enlarg'd, exulting, wond'ring mind<br>Shall soar, from weakness and from guilt refin'd;<br>Where perfect knowledge, bright with cloudless rays,<br>Shall gild eternity's unmeasur'd days;<br>Where friendship, unembitter'd by distrust,<br>Shall in immortal bands unite the just;<br>Devotion rais'd to rapture breathe her strain,<br>And love in his eternal triumph reign!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MATT. vii. 12.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Precept divine! to earth in mercy given,<br>O sacred rule of action, worthy heaven!<br>Whose pitying love ordain'd the bless'd command<br>To bind our nature in a firmer band;<br>Enforce each human suff'rer's strong appeal,<br>And teach the selfish breast what others feel;<br>Wert thou the guide of life, mankind might know<br>A soft exemption from the worst of woe;<br>No more the powerful would the weak oppress,<br>But tyrants learn the luxury to bless;<br>No more would slav'ry bind a hopeless train,<br>Of human victims, in her galling chain;<br>Mercy the hard, the cruel heart would move<br>To soften mis'ry by the deeds of Jove;<br>And av'rice from his hoarded treasures give<br>Unask'd, the liberal boon, that want might live!<br>The impious tongue of falshood then would cease<br>To blast, with dark suggestions, virtue's peace;<br>No more would spleen, or passion banish rest<br>And plant a pang in fond affection's breast;<br>By one harsh word, one alter'd look, destroy<br>Her peace, and wither every op'ning joy;<br>Scarce can her tongue the captious wrong explain,<br>The slight offence which gives so deep a pain!<br>Th' affected ease that slights her starting tear,<br>The words whose coldness kills from lips so dear;<br>The hand she loves, alone can point the dart,<br>Whose hidden sting could wound no other heart—<br>These, of all pains the sharpest we endure,<br>The breast which now inflicts, would spring to cure.—<br>No more deserted genius then, would fly<br>To breathe in solitude his hopeless sigh;<br>No more would Fortune's partial smile debase<br>The spirit, rich in intellectual grace;<br>Who views unmov'd from scenes where pleasures bloom,<br>The flame of genius sunk in mis'ry's gloom;<br>The soul heav'n form'd to soar, by want deprest,<br>Nor heeds the wrongs that pierce a kindred breast.—<br>Thou righteous Law! whose clear and useful light<br>Sheds on the mind a ray divinely bright;<br>Condensing in one rule whate'er the sage<br>Has proudly taught, in many a labour'd page;<br>Bid every heart thy hallow'd voice revere,<br>To justice sacred, and to nature dear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">That thine alms may be in secret,<br>and thy Father which seeth in secret, himself shall reward thee openly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Matt. VI. 4.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">HEAR heav'n's pure dictates, ye presumptuous crowd,<br>Be kind ye selfish, and abash'd ye proud!<br>Nor think the ostentatious act, which draws<br>The incense of ill judging man's applause,<br>The boon obtruded on the gazer's sight,<br>Outweighs in virtue's scale, the widow's mite;<br>Claim not in His divine rewards, a part,<br>Who knows the motive, and who views the heart;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Be yours to hear the empty accents roll<br>Of praise, rejected by the conscious soul.<br>But ye, who when to succour want ye fly,<br>Have never paus'd to wish a witness nigh,<br>Have mingled with your alms, the unseen tear,<br>The secret sigh which heav'n alone could hear;<br>Be yours, when life shall reach the closing scene,<br>To read its record with a hope serene;<br>And yours to listen, while a voice of love<br>Proclaims your bright inheritance above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Helen+Maria+Williams">Helen Maria Williams</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=407942" data-title="Paraphrases from Scripture de Helen Maria Williams" data-description="The day is thine, the night also is thine; thou hast prepared the
light and the sun.

Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast made summer and
winter.

PSALM lxxiv. 16, 17.

My God! all nature owns thy sway,
Thou giv'st the night, and..."></div>
</div>
</div>