Mariella; of Out-west

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Macmillan, 1902 - Authors, American - 435 pages
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Page i - In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot, I hesitate to draw a line Between the two, where God has not.
Page 110 - From the Cascades' frozen gorges, Leaping like a child at play, Winding, widening through the valley, Bright Willamette glides away; Onward ever, Lovely River, Softly calling to the sea, Time, that scars us, Maims and mars us, Leaves no track or trench on thee.
Page 113 - But he wooed, yes, wooed and won her, Filled her gentle heart with care; Then he heeded not her weeping, Nor cared for her life to save; Soon she perished, now she's sleeping In the cold and silent grave.
Page 436 - The poetry of the volume is good, and its rare setting, amid the scenes and under the light of a sunset land, will constitute an attractive charm to many readers.
Page 278 - Well, well, it's all past ; yet it's funny To think, as I stood in the glare Of fashion and beauty and money, That I should be thinking, right there, Of some one who breasted high water, And swam the North Fork, and all that, Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, The Lily of Poverty Flat. But goodness! what nonsense I'm writing! (Mamma says my taste still is low,) Instead of my triumphs reciting, I'm spooning on Joseph,— heigh-ho ! And I'm to be "finished" by travel, — Whatever's the meaning...
Page 113 - Gently pleading at thy feet ; Now thy life is in its morning, Cloud not this thy happy lot, Listen to the gipsy's warning, Gentle lady, trust him not.

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