January and June: Being Out-door Thinkings and Fire-side MusingsS. Hueston, 1854 - Всего страниц: 281 |
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Стр. 27
... turned about upon his perch as noncha- lant as a Regent Street fashionable . There was a little swelling in his throat . Was it a rising sigh ? Nothing of the sort ; for he warbled a ditty - not of the strongest , we confess , but then ...
... turned about upon his perch as noncha- lant as a Regent Street fashionable . There was a little swelling in his throat . Was it a rising sigh ? Nothing of the sort ; for he warbled a ditty - not of the strongest , we confess , but then ...
Стр. 41
... or the Last War — in fact , it breaks up whole families . Talk about " beating swords into ploughshares ! " If this identical implement had been turned into a dozen PLOUGHSHARES AND SORROWS . 41 Ploughshares and Sorrows.
... or the Last War — in fact , it breaks up whole families . Talk about " beating swords into ploughshares ! " If this identical implement had been turned into a dozen PLOUGHSHARES AND SORROWS . 41 Ploughshares and Sorrows.
Стр. 42
... turned into a dozen good broad - swords , in these " piping times of peace , " it would have hastened the Millennium , at least one generation , in the Meadow back of the Orchard . What John Rogers - like families of infant mice were ...
... turned into a dozen good broad - swords , in these " piping times of peace , " it would have hastened the Millennium , at least one generation , in the Meadow back of the Orchard . What John Rogers - like families of infant mice were ...
Стр. 54
... turned to stone ; stone that was hewn into temples ; temples that mould- ered to dust ; dust that was flung to the winds ; winds that swelled the sails of the Argonauts . And the SCULPTURE ? The Sculpture is there still ! By the ...
... turned to stone ; stone that was hewn into temples ; temples that mould- ered to dust ; dust that was flung to the winds ; winds that swelled the sails of the Argonauts . And the SCULPTURE ? The Sculpture is there still ! By the ...
Стр. 64
... turned the color of fame ! Wonderfully rare were the trinkets strown about that cradle ; the Land of the vale , the viol , and the vine , L flung over the water a snowy lily from the 64 JANUARY AND JUNE . Fourth of July.
... turned the color of fame ! Wonderfully rare were the trinkets strown about that cradle ; the Land of the vale , the viol , and the vine , L flung over the water a snowy lily from the 64 JANUARY AND JUNE . Fourth of July.
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aloft amid beat beautiful beneath billows bird bless blue blue air body bosom breath Cape Horn cloud Cochin China comes cradle Daguerreotype dark dead Dead Past dream earth Eolian eyes fellow fingers fire flowers flung flutter footfall Fourth of July glitter glory glow gold gone grave gray green grow half hand heard heart Heaven hens hope iron June KNICKERBOCKER Knickerbocker Magazine leaf light Lignite lips look lustrum memory morning mother never night o'er old Saxon old-fashioned quail rain remember rock rose Rotten Stone round rustle shadow sigh silver sing smile song stars summer sunbeams swallow's nest sweet swelling swinging tears thee There's thing thought three-cent pieces thunder tree tune turned uttered Vine voice waiting wave Whip-poor-Will whisper wind window wings wonder woods word
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Стр. 174 - All Nature is but art, unknown to thee All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good: And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
Стр. 263 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 227 - Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled ; Heavy to get, and light to hold ; Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold, Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled : Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old To the very verge of the church-yard mould ; Price of many a crime untold : Gold ! gold ! gold ! gold...
Стр. 53 - 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.
Стр. 223 - Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it.
Стр. 84 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Стр. 72 - Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain ; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray ; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
Стр. 225 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Стр. 42 - Still thou art blest, compared wi' me! The present only toucheth thee: But, och! I backward cast my e'e On prospects drear! An' forward, though I canna see, I guess an
Стр. 180 - 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.