Driftwood

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Hicks-Judd Company, 1896 - 238 pages
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Page 19 - I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls With vassals and serfs at my side And of all who assembled within those walls That I was the hope and the pride. I had riches too great to count, could boast Of a high ancestral name, But I also dreamt, which pleased me most, That you loved me still the same.
Page 20 - The power they feel so well, There may, perhaps, in such a scene, Some recollection be, Of days that have as happy been, And you'll remember me, And you'll remember, you'll remember me.
Page 21 - But memory is the only friend that grief can call its own.
Page 117 - From the breaths of human flowers ? Did some other winged thing tell them, When the bees, o'er drifts of snow, To her window came to perish. When she died, who loved them so ? How distinctly I remember...
Page 118 - Till the autumn sered the trees, Every twilight found my father Busy with his swarms of bees. For they loved him and caressed him With their gauzy, restless wings, Dusty with the yellow pollen, Girt about with golden rings.
Page 118 - And the angel that received him Must have told among the trees, When the dear old man, grown weary, Fell asleep among the bees. Busy...
Page 52 - No work to give him, — next thing he's dead. What did he die of, sir ? Can any one tell ? A fit did they think it was ? Last night he was well.
Page 53 - Rather late in the day, when a man's dead and still. Strikes me it don't count, to this, under my spade ; And as for the rest of him — stranger, that's played.
Page 52 - Why, he hadn't enough To pay for this hole in the sod, of the stuff. Friends, did you ask ? Oh, yes ! sometime or other ; Reckon, of course, the boy once had a mother.
Page 117 - HAVE you heard the olden legend By the eastern people told, Of the...

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