The Snow Flake: A Gift for Innocence and Beauty : 1846 (Google eBook)

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Timothy Shay Arthur
E. Ferrett, 1846 - Gift books - 283 pages
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Page 36 - The Boy was sprung to manhood : in the wilds Of fiery climes he made himself a home, And his Soul drank their sunbeams; he was girt With strange and dusky aspects; he was not Himself like what he had been; on the sea 110 And on the shore he was a wanderer...
Page 34 - Well! thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy weal Warmly as it was wont to do. Thy husband's blest— and 'twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass— Oh! how my heart Would hate him, if he loved thee not! When late I saw thy favourite child I thought my jealous heart would break; But when the unconscious infant smiled, I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.
Page 35 - Yet was I calm : I knew the time My breast would thrill before thy look ; But now to tremble were a crime — We met, — and not a nerve was shook.
Page 100 - I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man - be virtuous - be religious - be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.
Page 35 - But when the unconscious infant smiled, I kiss'd it for its mother's sake. I kiss'd it, — and repress'd my sighs Its father in its face to see : But then it had its mother's eyes, And they were all to love and me.
Page 33 - He had no breath, no being, but in hers ; She was his voice ; he did not speak to her, But trembled on her words ; she was his sight, For his eye follow'd hers, and saw with hers, Which colour'd all his objects : he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts...
Page 36 - The Boy was sprung to manhood: in the wilds Of fiery climes he made himself a home, And his soul drank their sunbeams: he was girt With strange and dusky aspects; he was not Himself like what he had been; on the sea And on the shore he was a wanderer; There was a mass of many images Crowded like waves upon me, but he was A part of all; and in the last he lay Reposing from the noontide sultriness...
Page 42 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...
Page 36 - So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful, That God alone was to be seen in heaven.
Page 33 - Which colored all his objects ; — he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all ; upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously — his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.

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