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Page 338 - Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Page 467 - Still charging on the guns which swept The slippery streets of Monterey. The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay, We swooped his flanking batteries past, And, braving full their murderous blast, Stormed home the towers of Monterey.
Page 468 - The slippery streets of Monterey. The foe himself recoiled aghast, When, striking where he strongest lay, We swooped his flanking batteries past, And, braving full their murderous blast, Stormed home the towers of Monterey. Our banners on those turrets wave, And there our evening bugles play ; Where orange boughs above their grave, Keep green the memory of the brave Who fought and fell at Monterey.
Page 156 - And is there nothing yet unsaid Before the change appears? Remember, all their gifts have fled With those dissolving years!" Why, yes ; for memory would recall My fond paternal joys; I could not bear to leave them all; I'll take— my girl— and — boys...
Page 338 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Page 467 - WE were not many — we who stood Before the iron sleet that day; Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years if he but could Have been with us at Monterey. Now here, now there, the shot it hailed In deadly drifts of fiery spray, Yet not a single soldier quailed When wounded comrades round them wailed Their dying shout at Monterey. And on, still on, our column kept, Through walls of flame, its withering way...
Page 156 - The angel took a sapphire pen And wrote in rainbow dew, The man would be a boy again, And be a husband too ! " And is there nothing yet unsaid, Before the change appears? Remember, all their gifts have fled With those dissolving years.
Page 57 - Yet if, as holiest men have deem'd, there be A land of souls beyond that sable shore, To shame the doctrine of the Sadducee And sophists, madly vain of dubious lore ; How sweet it were in concert to adore With those who made our mortal labours light ! To hear each voice we fear'd to hear no more ! Behold each mighty shade reveal'd to sight, The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the right ! IX.