Eliza Cook's Journal, Volume 2

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J. O. Clark, 1850
 

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Page 296 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Page 78 - Speak gently— it is better far To rule by love than fear...
Page 285 - IT is the first mild day of March : Each minute sweeter than before, The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains bare And grass in the green field.
Page 218 - If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed; but the cleverest, the acutest men are often under an illusion about women: they do not read them in a true light: they misapprehend them, both for good and evil: their good woman is a queer thing, half doll, half angel; their bad woman almost always a fiend.
Page 329 - READING is to the mind, what exercise is to the body. As by the one health is preserved, strengthened, and invigorated; by the other, virtue (which is the health of the mind) is kept alive, cherished, and confirmed.
Page 122 - Keep to your bank, and the bank will keep you. Trust not to the public : you may hang, starve, drown yourself for anything that worthy personage cares. I bless every star that Providence, not seeing good to make me independent, has seen it next good to settle me upon the stable foundation of Leadenhall. Sit down, good BB, in the banking office : what!
Page 200 - No; earth has angels, though their forms are moulded, But of such clay as fashions all below ; Though harps are wanting, and bright pinions folded, We know them by the love-light on their brow. I have seen angels by the sick one's pillow; Theirs was the soft tone and the soundless tread ; Where smitten hearts were drooping like the willow, They stood " between the living and the dead.
Page 78 - Speak gently to the little child, Its love be sure to gain, Teach it in accents soft and mild, It may not long remain.
Page 173 - The glaciers creep Like snakes that watch their prey, from their far fountains, Slowly rolling on ; there, many a precipice Frost and the Sun in scorn of mortal power Have piled — dome, pyramid, and pinnacle, A city of death, distinct with many a tower And wall impregnable of beaming ice. Yet not a city, but a flood of ruin Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky Rolls its perpetual stream...
Page 218 - Caroline," demanded Miss Keeldar, abruptly, "don't you wish you had a profession — a trade?" "I wish it fifty times a day. As it is, I often wonder what I came into the world for. I long to have something absorbing and compulsory to fill my head and hands, and to occupy my thoughts.

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