Sketches (Google eBook)

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S.G. Goodrich, 1827 - American poetry - 96 pages
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Page 44 - Therefore let the moon Shine on thee in thy solitary walk ; And let the misty mountain winds be free To blow against thee : and, in after years, When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure, when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies...
Page 2 - District Clerk's Office. BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the tenth day of August, AD 1829, in the fifty-fourth year of the Independence of the United States of America, JP Dabney, of the said district, has deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to wit...
Page 17 - The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief, The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
Page 19 - Tis hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle slumber on thee; And thy dark sin! Oh! I could drink the cup, If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home. My lost boy, Absalom!
Page 18 - Cold is thy brow, my son, and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee. How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet 'my father,' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom!
Page 28 - And his proud lip was pressed as if with pain. He trod less firmly; and his restless eye Glanced forward frequently, as if some ill He dared not meet were there. His home was near, And men were thronging with that strange delight They have in human passions, to observe The struggle of his feelings with his pride. He gazed intently forward.
Page 19 - Absalom !" He covered up his face, and bowed himself A moment on his child : then, giving him A look of melting tenderness, he clasped His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ; And, as...
Page 22 - He gave to her the water and the bread, But spoke no word, and trusted not himself To look upon her face, but laid his hand In silent blessing on the fair-haired boy, And left her to her lot of loneliness.
Page 19 - T is hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle slumber on thee ! And thy dark sin ! oh ! I could drink the cup, If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, My lost boy, Absalom...
Page 82 - On the noble sleeper there. Tread lightly, comrades ! we have laid His dark locks on his brow Like life save deeper light and shade : We'll not disturb them now. Tread lightly for 'tis beautiful, That blue-veined eye-lid's sleep, Hiding the eye death left so dull Its slumber we will keep.

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