After Many Years

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F. T. Neely, 1895 - American poetry - 245 pages
 

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Page 20 - Allah lifted his imploring eye. Below him, sparkled many a twinkling fire, Where pilgrims camped around the sacred spire. " Oh ! Where is God ? " The old muezzin cries, With eagle glance, he scans the vaulted skies. All silent trembled the thin realms of air— Ben Hafiz vainly sought an answer there ! Beneath his feet, stretched far the sapphire sea—
Page 175 - midst angry waves, And fails to reach the promised land. We miss our pilot—grand old Abe, How dear to us we never guessed, Until this day—two years ago, We laid him in his place of rest. Green be the grass that o'er him waves, As green his memory ever be, Until we meet him in the land That smiles beyond the silent sea. In the fair cycles yet to come, His name shall shine on History's page, All other glorious names among, The grandest, brightest ot the age ! ®ur Slma /Rater. WHERE Hudson pours...
Page 21 - ... mountains, hung above him, crested round, Caught his quick eye—" Is God, there, hidden found ? " But scarped rocks and peaks all silent lay— With no reply, Ben Hafiz turned away ! "Alas ! All silent !
Page 205 - Curse on the politician, Who clutches Chinese gold ! We tire of fine-spun pleading, Wise saws and maxims old ! Let on the bench each dreamy judge In grave abstraction pout ; They'll wake in fright when maddened men Shall cut this cancer out.
Page 217 - IN the hush of the calm and peaceful night, When all is lone and still, I think I hear an old-time strain. An echo from the hill; My heart beats fast—my pulses bound— Old friends I seem to see— The ringing, singing bugle brings The old days back to me...
Page 176 - ... among ! Four years, a little span of life, A little space of time, I lingered in her ancient halls, Wooed by her scenes sublime. The brightest joys that youth can bless, Or early manhood know, Smiled on me in the dear old place, In days of
Page 174 - Laid Abram Lincoln low, A hush went o'er the land ; We felt a gathering gloom, Clouding' the sunny day of Spring We laid him in the tomb. Time winged his ceaseless, silent flight, Full bitterly we thought it o'er, That Spring would smile on us again, But we should see his face no more ; The...
Page 130 - Molly's meek ! Molly's sweet! Molly's modest and discreet. Molly's rare, Molly's fair, Molly's everything that's neat.

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