Acrostics in prose and verse, a sequel to Double acrostics by various authors, ed. by A.E.H. (Google eBook)

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Page 219 - And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, .For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
Page 145 - DOES the road wind up-hill all the way ? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day ? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place ? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Page 120 - O could I flow like thee ! and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme ; Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull ; Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.
Page 191 - He had lived for his love, for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him.
Page 202 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Page 227 - Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear, And when they smiled because he...
Page 191 - The country rings around with loud alarms, And raw in fields the rude militia swarms; Mouths without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence; Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, And ever, but in times of need, at hand...
Page 263 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Page 210 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not...
Page 185 - What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire ; That look not like the inhabitants o...

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