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Page 84 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end: Were this frail world our only rest.
Page 183 - A fire devoureth before them ; and behind them a flame burneth : the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness ; yea, and nothing shall escape them.
Page 116 - I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Page 51 - Even in its very motion there was rest ; While every breath of eve that chanced to blow Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given ; And by the breath of mercy made to roll Right onward to the golden gates of Heaven ; Where to the eye of Faith it peaceful lies, And tells to man his glorious destinies.
Page 180 - And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; into your hand are they delivered.
Page 188 - Who toss the golden and the flame-like flowers, And pass the prairie-hawk that, poised on high, Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not - ye have played Among the palms of Mexico and vines Of Texas, and have crisped the limpid brooks That from the fountains of Sonora glide Into the calm Pacific - have ye fanned A nobler or a lovelier scene than this?
Page 84 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond the reign of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath. Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward and expire.
Page 30 - Outflying the blast and the driving rain, The petrel telleth her tale — in vain...
Page 101 - Till I have done with this new day, Which now is painful to these eyes, Which have not seen the sun so rise For years — I cannot count them o'er, I lost their long and heavy score, When my last brother droop'd and died, And I lay living by his side.
Page 15 - Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground?