Wayside Gleanings for Leisure Moments (Google eBook)

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J. Wilson and son, 1882 - American literature - 150 pages
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Page 58 - And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Page 31 - God ! from out whose hand The centuries fall like grains of sand, We meet to-day, united, free, And loyal to our land and Thee, To thank Thee for the era done, And trust Thee for the opening one.
Page 114 - I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered o'er the tide ! And the dead captains, as they lay In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay, Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Page 111 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fatal lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Page 23 - THE maid who binds her warrior's sash With smile that well her pain dissembles, The while beneath her drooping lash One starry tear-drop hangs and trembles, Though Heaven alone records the tear, And Fame, shall never know her story, Her heart has shed a drop as dear As e'er bedewed the field of glory...
Page 46 - We are coming, Father Abram, three hundred thousand more, From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore ; We leave our ploughs and workshops, our wives and children dear, With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear; We dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before. We are coming, Father Abram, three hundred thousand more!
Page 111 - Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him ! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
Page 117 - Shall we sit idly down and say The night hath come; it is no longer day? The night hath not yet come; we are not quite Cut off from...
Page 104 - There 9s rest in his still countenance ! He mocks no grief with idle cheer, Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear ; But ills and woes he may not cure He kindly trains us to endure. Angel of Patience ! sent to calm Our feverish brows with cooling...
Page 111 - As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on.

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