Salad for the Solitary

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Dewitt and Davenport, 1854 - American essays - 344 pages
 

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Page 174 - E'en while with us thy footsteps trod, His seal was on thy brow. Dust to its narrow house beneath ! Soul to its place on high ! They that have seen thy look in death, No more may fear to die.
Page 10 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one (from whence they came) Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life...
Page 59 - The friends, who in our sunshine live, When winter comes, are flown; And he who has but tears to give, Must weep those tears alone. But Thou wilt heal that broken heart, Which, like the plants that throw Their fragrance from the wounded part, Breathes sweetness out of woe.
Page 183 - For him, the Spring Distils her dews, and from the silken gem Its lucid leaves unfolds; for him, the hand Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch With blooming gold and blushes like the morn.
Page 229 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shall not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 110 - at the Mount of St Mary's, in the stony stage where I now stand, I have brought you some fine biscuits, baked in the oven of charity, carefully conserved for the chickens of the church, the sparrows of the spirit, and the sweet swallows of salvation.
Page 258 - HERE WAS BURIED THOMAS JEFFERSON, Author of the Declaration of American Independence, Of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom, And Father of the University of Virginia ; because by these, as testimonials that I have lived, I wish most to be remembered.
Page 162 - Prostrate my contrite heart I rend, My God, my Father, and my Friend, Do not forsake me in my end.
Page 171 - Go, soul, the body's guest, Upon a thankless errand ! Fear not to touch the best, The truth shall be thy warrant Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie.
Page 177 - And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.

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