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Page 101 - Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, -- Thinking only of her brilliant eyes , and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head- -poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider , and fiercely held her fast . He dragged her up his winding stair , into his dismal den Within his little parlor --but she ne'er came out again!
Page 80 - TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. THOU blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end.
Page 131 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death!
Page 100 - Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind sir, that cannot be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!" "Sweet creature," said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise; How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day.
Page 123 - Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb — It is there, it is there my child!
Page 123 - Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother! that better land? Not there, not there, my child ! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Page 81 - The aged year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue— blue— as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall.
Page 131 - I kept him for his humour's sake, For he would oft beguile My heart of thoughts that made it ache, And force me to a smile. But now beneath his walnut shade He finds his long last home, And waits, in snug concealment laid, Till gentler Puss shall come.
Page 183 - ... with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart to yon pure bright sphere, To warble it out in his Maker's ear. Ever, my child, be thy morn's first lays Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise."
Page 4 - Co. of the said district, have deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words following, to wit : " Tadeuskund, the Last King of the Lenape. An Historical Tale." In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States...