Autumn Gatherings: Being a Collection of Prose and Poetry, Sacred and Secular

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author, 1866 - 200

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Strona 12 - OH happiness ! our being's end and aim ! Good, pleasure, ease, content ? whate'er thy name : That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die, Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, O'er-look'd, seen double, by the fool, and wise.
Strona 155 - As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while.
Strona 19 - thou blessed child ! When, young and haply pure as thou, I look'd and pray'd like thee ; but now — " He hung his head ; each nobler aim And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept! Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
Strona 37 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest and youthful Jollity, Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles, Nods and Becks and wreathed Smiles, Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Strona 129 - Whose rivulets are like rich brides, Lovely, with gold beneath their tides ; Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice Might be a Peri's Paradise ! But crimson now her rivers ran With human blood — the smell of death Came reeking from those spicy bowers, And man, the sacrifice of man, Mingled his taint with every breath Upwafted from the innocent flowers...
Strona 75 - While still the race of Hypocrites At Cant-on are at home. Lovers should hasten to Good Hope; To some Cape Horn is pain; Debtors should go to Oh-io, And Sailors to the Main-e.
Strona 58 - In all places where I record My Name, I will come to thee, and I will bless thee. Exod. xx. 24. Let b Thine eyes be open towards this house night and day, even toward the place of which Thou hast said, My Name shall be there; that Thou mayest hearken unto the prayer which Thy servant shall make towards this place.
Strona 3 - I kissed it — and repressed my sighs, Its father in its face to see ; But then it had its mother's eyes, And they were all to love and me. Mary, adieu ! I must away : While thou art blest I'll not repine ; But near thee I can never stay ; My heart would soon again be thine.
Strona 75 - To Lap-land, or to Brest. From Spit-head Cooks go o'er to Greece; And while the Miser waits His passage to the Guinea coast, Spendthrifts are in the Straits. Spinsters should to the Needles go, Wine-bibbers to Burgundy ; Gourmands should lunch at Sandwich Isles, Wags in the Bay of Fundy.

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