The Golden Gift: A Token for All SeasonsJosiah Moody Fletcher F.W. Bailey, 1856 - Всего страниц: 128 |
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Стр. 10
... . And still my soul shall these command , While sorrow writes upon my face ; My thoughts are on my native land , My heart is in my native place . ANONYMOUS . Remember Me . REMEMBER me when not a cloud of 10 THE GOLDEN GIFT .
... . And still my soul shall these command , While sorrow writes upon my face ; My thoughts are on my native land , My heart is in my native place . ANONYMOUS . Remember Me . REMEMBER me when not a cloud of 10 THE GOLDEN GIFT .
Стр. 11
... sorrow Its shadow flings across my sunny way ; When all is bright , and Hope bespeaks the morrow As undisturbed and happy as to - day ; When throbs my heart with pleasure , and its foun- Is sending forth a stream of joy and love ...
... sorrow Its shadow flings across my sunny way ; When all is bright , and Hope bespeaks the morrow As undisturbed and happy as to - day ; When throbs my heart with pleasure , and its foun- Is sending forth a stream of joy and love ...
Стр. 20
... us , sister , good or ill , Hours of sorrow , or of happiness ; Ever the same , may we still live through life , Remaining true to love , and to each other . J. M. F. A Mother at the Grave of her Child . YON 20 THE GOLDEN GIFT . Fletcher,
... us , sister , good or ill , Hours of sorrow , or of happiness ; Ever the same , may we still live through life , Remaining true to love , and to each other . J. M. F. A Mother at the Grave of her Child . YON 20 THE GOLDEN GIFT . Fletcher,
Стр. 28
... sorrow , Is our destined end or way ; But to act , that each to - morrow Find us farther than to - day . Art is long , and time is fleeting , And our hearts , though stout and brave , Still , like muffled drums , are beating Funeral ...
... sorrow , Is our destined end or way ; But to act , that each to - morrow Find us farther than to - day . Art is long , and time is fleeting , And our hearts , though stout and brave , Still , like muffled drums , are beating Funeral ...
Стр. 52
... sorrow's cup I drink , All bitter though it be , How sweet to me ' t will be to think It holds no drop for thee . Then fare thee well ; an exile now , Without a friend or home , With anguish written on my brow , About the world I ' ll ...
... sorrow's cup I drink , All bitter though it be , How sweet to me ' t will be to think It holds no drop for thee . Then fare thee well ; an exile now , Without a friend or home , With anguish written on my brow , About the world I ' ll ...
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Amid ANONYMOUS azure beautiful birds blest bliss bloom bower breast breeze bright brow burn cheek cheer cloud Congenial spirits crystal spring dark dear dreams dwell E'er early woo'd earth Eglantine eyes fair flowers forget Fountain played fragrant gaze gentle glad grave grief happy HARVARD COLLEGE hath hear hearts we love heaven hope hour laughs at care left the sighing life's light lisp live longer tells lyre Madrigal merry heart morning mountain home mourn N. P. WILLIS native ne'er never night Nosegay numbers o'er its hills pass peace Pilgrim Fathers prayer pure rainbow rapture rill roam sacred bands scenes shadows sighing vale sleep smile soft song sorrow soul stars tears tells her tale thee There's thine thou thought thro thy brother Truth no longer waves weary weep wild wing woman's woo'd and won Yankee girls youth
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Стр. 28 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Стр. 112 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean...
Стр. 29 - Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate...
Стр. 71 - And called her good as fair, For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true, For her heart was cold to all but gold, And the rich came not to woo — But honored well are charms to sell If priests the selling do.
Стр. 28 - Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Стр. 73 - Pilgrim's sleep Still brood upon the tide; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep To stay its waves of pride. But the snow-white sail that he gave to the gale, When the heavens looked dark, is gone, — As an angel's wing through an opening cloud Is seen, and then withdrawn.
Стр. 81 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
Стр. 28 - Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day.
Стр. 59 - Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day, Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou — and from thy sleep Then wake to weep.
Стр. 69 - That very law* which moulds a tear. And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.