The Good Housekeeping Hostess: Entertainments for All Seasons and Occasions, Described in Detail by a Group of Accomplished Entertainers; Also the Complete Rules of Etiquette and Social Observance for the Hostess

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Phelps published Company, 1904 - Cookery - 320 pages

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Page 81 - Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low, — an excellent thing in woman.
Page 227 - ... sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Page 80 - And she, the mother of thy boys. Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried Joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will by their pilgrim-circled hearth Talk of thy doom without a sigh: For thou art freedom's now and fame's, One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
Page 202 - Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again, just for to-night! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep; Rock me to sleep...
Page 289 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how? — To thy chamber window, sweet!
Page 289 - She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, " She is late; " The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" 65 And the lily whispers, "I wait.
Page 245 - If you can look into the seeds of time, And say, which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear, Your favours, nor your hate.
Page 247 - Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before.
Page 245 - That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire. Hark! - Peace: It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night.40 He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores.
Page 80 - Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime ; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

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