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J. Andrews, 1832 - 235

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Strona 206 - A blessing for the eyes that weep. The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears; And weary hours of woe and pain Are promises of happier years. There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night; And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light. And
Strona 29 - heaven. The century-living crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till at last they stood, As now they stand, massive and tall and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker. Here are seen No traces of man's pomp or pride ; no silks Rustle,
Strona 149 - hearts should bear The thought of what has been, And speak of one who cannot share The gladness of the scene; Whose part, in all the pomp that fills The circuit of the summer hills, Is — that his grave is green ; And deeply would their hearts rejoice To hear again his living voice. THE
Strona 29 - and tall and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker. Here are seen No traces of man's pomp or pride ; no silks Rustle, nor jewels shine, nor envious eyes Encounter ; no fantastic carvings shew The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair
Strona 106 - MARCH. THE stormy March is come at last, With wind and cloud and changing skies, I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies. Ah ! passing few are they who speak, Wild stormy month ! in praise of thee ; Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak, Though art a welcome month to me. For thou to northern lands
Strona 34 - Why weep ye then for him, who, having won The bound of man's appointed years, at last, Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labours done, Serenely to his final rest has past; While the soft memory of his virtues yet Lingers, like twilight hues when the bright sun is set ? His youth was
Strona 79 - ladies greet our band With kindliest welcoming — With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear these trusty arms, And lay them down no more Till we have driven the
Strona 169 - AN INDIAN AT THE BURYING-PLACE OF HIS FATHERS. IT is the spot I came to seek,— My fathers' ancient burial-place, Ere from these vales, ashamed and weak, Withdrew our wasted race. It is the spot — I know it well — Of which our old traditions tell. For here the upland bank sends out A ridge toward the
Strona 14 - shake ofF the vampire train That batten on her blood, and break their net. Yes, she shall look on brighter days, and gain The meed of worthier deeds : the moment set To rescue and raise up draws near—but is not yet. xxxv. But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall But with thy
Strona 200 - Away, away, through the wide, wide sky — The fair blue fields that before us lie; Each sun, with the worlds that around him roll, Each planet, poised on her turning pole, With her isles of green, and her clouds of white, And her waters that lie like fluid light.

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