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American appeared arms asked beautiful better birds body bright called character child close comes dark dear death deep door earth eyes face fall father fear feel feet flowers give green hand happy head hear heard heart hope hour hundred interest kind KNICKERBOCKER lady land leave light living look mind Miss morning mother nature never night o'er once passed person poor present reader received remark rest river round scene seemed seen side smile soon soul sound speak spirit stand stood story sweet tell thing thou thought took trees true turned voice volume watch whole young
Page 25 - Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
Page 625 - Hiawatha!" And the rabbit from his pathway Leaped aside, and at a distance Sat erect upon his haunches, Half in fear and half in frolic, Saying to the little hunter, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" But he heeded not, nor heard them, For his thoughts were with the red deer^ On their tracks his eyes were fastened, Leading downward to the river, To the ford across the river, And as one in slumber walked he.
Page 625 - There he waited till the deer came, Till he saw two antlers lifted, Saw two eyes look from the thicket, Saw two nostrils point to windward, And a deer came down the pathway, Flecked with leafy light and shadow.
Page 623 - And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?
Page 528 - Some might lament that I were cold, As I when this sweet day is gone, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan ; They might lament — for I am one Whom men love not — and yet regret, Unlike this day, which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy, in memory yet ODE TO THE WEST WIND.
Page 396 - Ye are furrowed all o'er; Strength of my youth, All your vigor is gone; Thoughts of my youth, Your gay visions are flown.
Page 112 - There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Page 263 - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies. Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat, With singing, laughing, ogling, and all that.