January and June: Being Out-door Thinkings and Fire-side Musings

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S. Hueston, 1854 - American essays - 281 pages
 

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Page 53 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Page 228 - Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled ; Heavy to get, and light to hold ; Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold, Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled : Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old To the very verge of the church-yard mould ; Price of many a crime untold : Gold ! gold ! gold ! gold...
Page 19 - I have nought that is fair, saith he : Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again. He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
Page 263 - O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever.
Page 223 - Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it.
Page 71 - Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrow is in vain : For, violets pluck'd the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow again. Our joys as winged dreams do fly, Why then should sorrow last ? Since grief but aggravates thy loss, Grieve not for what is past.
Page 151 - ... woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled...
Page 150 - AY. thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath ! . When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south ! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away.
Page 42 - But Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vain: The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, Gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an
Page 150 - WHEN the last sunshine of expiring day In summer's twilight weeps itself away, Who hath not felt the softness of the hour Sink on the heart, as dew along the flower? With a pure feeling which absorbs and awes While nature makes that melancholy pause, Her breathing moment on the bridge where Time Of light and darkness forms an arch sublime.

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