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Andrew Waddell Antonio As-you-like beautiful began better blessed Bouillabaisse called Carcassonne Cardo Charlotte cried curate dark dead dear death delight door dream Duluth earth exclaimed eyes face fair father fear feel flowers Frederick Hume Fulmer George Withers girl give goodmen hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven Holydean honour hour human JACQUES JASMIN John Brown John Sadleir Julia Kabak kiss knew lady laugh leave light live look Mark Twain Masaniello mind Miss Pearce morning mother nature never night o'er Paul poet poor portmanteau Professor Robert Burns round Scotland seemed Signora Romelli smile solemn song soon soul spirit stood Surbiton sweet tears tell thee things thou thought tion told took trees truth tulip-tree turned Virginia voice wife wild wind woman words young youth
Page 68 - ... them into the tide and immediately disappeared. These hidden pit-falls were set very thick at the entrance of the bridge, so that throngs of people no sooner broke through the cloud, but many of them fell into them. They grew thinner towards the middle, but multiplied and lay closer together towards the end of the arches that were entire.
Page 36 - Yet a few days and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again ; And, lost each human trace, surrendering UP Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix for ever with the elements, To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod which the rude swain Turns...
Page 370 - He giveth his beloved sleep — Ps. cxxvii. 2. OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved?
Page 160 - And yet my eyes are filled with tears. With earnest feeling I shall pray For thee when I am far away; For never saw I mien or face In which more plainly I could trace Benignity and home-bred sense Ripening in perfect innocence.
Page 394 - Now, all amid the rigours of .the year, In the wild depth of Winter, while without The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat, Between the groaning forest and the shore Beat by the boundless multitude of waves, A rural, shelter'd, solitary scene ; Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead...
Page 160 - In spots like these it is we prize Our memory, feel that she hath eyes : Then why should I be loth to stir? I feel this place was made for her; To give new pleasure like the past, Continued long as life shall last.
Page 68 - Look no more, said he, on man in the first stage of his existence, in his setting out for eternity ; but cast thine eye on that thick mist into which the tide bears the several generations of mortals that fall into it.
Page 121 - I loved a Love once, fairest among women: Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her— All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man: Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly; Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Page 36 - Of the stern agony and shroud and pall And breathless darkness and the narrow house Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, Go forth under the open sky and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...
Page 36 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.