The Pioneer: Or, Leaves from an Editor's PortfolioJ. B. Tolman, 1846 - 208 sidor |
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Sida viii
... MOTHER , HYMN TO THE FLOWERS , EACH IN ALL , . THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM , SLANDER , By Jesse Hutchinson , Jr. , By Horace Smith , Page 6989 By Ralph Waldo Emerson , 75 By Robert Southey , 80 By Frances S. Osgood , 84 BRIDAL WISHES , By ...
... MOTHER , HYMN TO THE FLOWERS , EACH IN ALL , . THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM , SLANDER , By Jesse Hutchinson , Jr. , By Horace Smith , Page 6989 By Ralph Waldo Emerson , 75 By Robert Southey , 80 By Frances S. Osgood , 84 BRIDAL WISHES , By ...
Sida 17
... mother , or blow out the brains of his wife , —it must be obeyed at the peril of life . And in time of peace every one is compelled ( also at the peril of life ) to hold himself in readiness , " armed and equipped as the law di- rects ...
... mother , or blow out the brains of his wife , —it must be obeyed at the peril of life . And in time of peace every one is compelled ( also at the peril of life ) to hold himself in readiness , " armed and equipped as the law di- rects ...
Sida 37
... mother and her daughter a little nearer together , so they can kiss each other , they will give up " preparing for war , " and there will be no kill- ing , except of fatted calves for the festival . BE PATIENT . BY THE EDITOR OF THE ...
... mother and her daughter a little nearer together , so they can kiss each other , they will give up " preparing for war , " and there will be no kill- ing , except of fatted calves for the festival . BE PATIENT . BY THE EDITOR OF THE ...
Sida 54
... Wipe those poor lips of hers , Oozing so clammily . Loop up her tresses , Escaped from the comb , - Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses , Where was her home ? Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? 54 THE PIONEER .
... Wipe those poor lips of hers , Oozing so clammily . Loop up her tresses , Escaped from the comb , - Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses , Where was her home ? Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? 54 THE PIONEER .
Sida 55
... mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or , was there a dearer one Yet , than all other ? Alas , for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun ! O , it was pitiful ! Near a whole city full , Home she had none . Sisterly ...
... mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or , was there a dearer one Yet , than all other ? Alas , for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun ! O , it was pitiful ! Near a whole city full , Home she had none . Sisterly ...
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The Pioneer ; Or, Leaves from an Editor's Portfolio Henry Clapp Fragmentarisk förhandsgranskning - 1969 |
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Anti-Slavery beauty Bible billet read blessed breath bright brother Caleb Cushing Capernaum Caroline Caroline cross chattel slavery child Christian church clergy cloud cloud sulphurous common countenance dear death Dismal Swamp divine dreadful dream earth face faith father fear feel flowers gallows gibbet hand hanging happy head heart heaven HENRY CLAPP Herald of Freedom holy hope human intemperance Jack Ketch Jesus Christ labor light live look Mary medal mind moral morning mother nature never night noble o'er old oaken bucket peace poor praise prayer priest priesthood principles reform religion round seems sister slave slavery smile society solemn Somersworth song sorrow and woe soul speak spirit stars sweet tears thee thine things THOMAS HOOD thou thought truth unto voice Washingtonian Washingtonian movement words Work-work-work young
Populära avsnitt
Sida 147 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Sida 148 - Work — work — work ! In the dull December light; And work — work — work! When the weather is warm and bright; While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs, And twit me with the spring.
Sida 70 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by: And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.
Sida 155 - Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Sida 65 - I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky; He sang to my ear, they sang to my eye.
Sida 4 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing! And quick to the white-pebbled...
Sida 65 - The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, Running over the club-moss burrs; I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky. Full of light and of deity; Again I saw, again I heard, The rolling river, the morning bird; Beauty through my senses stole; I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
Sida 147 - O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is .not linen you're wearing out. But human creatures' lives ! Stitch, stitch, stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt. Sewing at once, with a double thread A shroud as well as a shirt...
Sida 33 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Sida 59 - And tolls its perfume on the passing air, Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth A call to prayer. Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, But to that fane, most catholic and solemn, Which God hath planned ; To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, Its dome the sky.