The Medical Summary: A Monthly Journal of Practical Medicine, New Preparations, Volume 34

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R. H. Andrews
1913
Edited by R.H. Andrews.
 

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Page 176 - twas wondrous pitiful ; She wished she had not heard it ; yet she wished That Heaven had made her such a man : she thanked me ; And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her.
Page 270 - He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity...
Page 281 - Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; Nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
Page 142 - Tis doubtless well to be sometimes awake, Awake to duty, and awake to truth, But when, alas! a nice review we take Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth, The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep Are those we passed in childhood, or asleep!
Page 114 - The smooth, soft air with pulse-like waves Flows murmuring through its hidden caves, ] ° Whose streams of brightening purple rush. Fired with a new and livelier blush. While all their burden of decay The ebbing current steals away, And red with Nature's flame they start From the warm fountains of the heart.
Page 175 - Wiley, at that time chief of the Bureau of Chemistry of the United States Department of Agriculture.
Page 271 - The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there anything whereof it may be said, "See, this is new"? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
Page 269 - Providence, that we may assert, with only an apparent paradox, that, had religion been more pure, it would have been less permanent, and that Christianity has been preserved by means of its corruptions.
Page 261 - A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little " more folding of the hands to sleep.
Page 269 - Why thus longing, thus forever sighing, For the far-off, unattained and dim, While the beautiful, all round thee lying, Offers up its low, perpetual hymn ? Wouldst thou listen to its gentle teaching, All thy restless yearnings it would still; Leaf, and flower, and laden bee are preaching Thine own sphere, though humble, first to fill. Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee Thou no ray of light and...

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