The New Gloucester Centennial, September 7, L874 (Google eBook)

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Hoyt, Fogg & Donham, 1875 - New Gloucester (Me. : Town) - 139 pages
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Page 52 - tis of thee, Sweet land of Liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side, Let freedom ring.
Page 116 - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Page 53 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break, — The sound prolong. Our fathers...
Page 38 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty, prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 39 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
Page 78 - Walk about Zion, and go round about her : Tell the towers thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, Consider her palaces ; That ye may tell it to the generation following : For this God is our God for ever and ever : He will be our guide even unto death.
Page 47 - For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept ; line upon line, line upon line ; here a little, and there a little...
Page 17 - O'er lands that long in darkness lay, She visits fair Columbia, And sets her sons among the stars.
Page 40 - Tis sweet, as year by year we lose Friends out of sight, in faith to muse How grows in Paradise our store.
Page 53 - My native country! thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills, .Like that above.

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