The Pioneer: Or, Leaves from an Editor's Portfolio (Google eBook)

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J. B. Tolman, 1846 - 208 pages
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Page 157 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Page 158 - Work — work — work ! In the dull December light; And work — work — work! When the weather is warm and bright; While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs, And twit me with the spring.
Page 80 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by: And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.
Page 165 - Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Page 75 - I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky; He sang to my ear, they sang to my eye.
Page 14 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing! And quick to the white-pebbled...
Page 75 - The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, Running over the club-moss burrs; I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky. Full of light and of deity; Again I saw, again I heard, The rolling river, the morning bird; Beauty through my senses stole; I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
Page 157 - O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is .not linen you're wearing out. But human creatures' lives ! Stitch, stitch, stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt. Sewing at once, with a double thread A shroud as well as a shirt...
Page 43 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 69 - And tolls its perfume on the passing air, Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth A call to prayer. Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, But to that fane, most catholic and solemn, Which God hath planned ; To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, Its dome the sky.

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