"Marse Henry": An Autobiography, Tom 1

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George H. Doran Company, 1919

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Strona 307 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Strona 307 - His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain ; The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast...
Strona 268 - I think I have no prejudice against the Southern people. They are just what we would be in their situation. If slavery did not now exist among them, they would not introduce it. If it did now exist among us, we should not instantly give it up.
Strona 189 - Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose. I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill, Around my fire an evening group to draw, And tell of all I felt and all I saw...
Strona 306 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
Strona 307 - Whose beard descending swept his aged breast; The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, Claimed kindred there and had his claims allowed; The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, Sat by his fire and talked the night away; Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won.
Strona 130 - ... my slenderer and younger taper imbibed its borrowed light from the more matured and redundant fountain of yours. Yes, my lord, we can remember those nights, without any other regret than that they can never more return; for " We spent them not in toys; or lust, or wine; But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence, and poesy; Arts which I lov'd, for they, my friend, were thine...
Strona 300 - THE night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done.
Strona 278 - We figure to ourselves The thing we like, and then we build it up As chance will have it, on the rock or sand : For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world, And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.
Strona 270 - We will walk on our own feet ; we will work with our own hands ; we will speak our own minds.

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