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Page 232 - And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil.
Page 94 - tis weary; Round its staff 'tis drooping dreary; Furl it, fold it, it is best; For there's not a man to wave it, And there's not a sword to save it, And there's not one left to lave it In the blood which heroes gave it: And its foes now scorn and brave it: Furl it, hide it— let it rest.
Page 94 - Banner — it is trailing! While around it sounds the wailing Of its people in their woe. For though conquered, they adore it! Love the cold dead hands that bore it! Weep for those who fell before it! Pardon those who trailed and tore it, But, Oh! wildly they deplore it Now who furl and fold it so.
Page 24 - Thus the mind itself is bowed to the yoke: even in what people do for pleasure, conformity is the first thing thought of ; they like in crowds ; they exercise choice only among things commonly done: peculiarity of taste, eccentricity of conduct, are shunned equally with crimes: until by dint of not following their own nature, they have no nature to follow...
Page 94 - tis hard for us to fold it; Hard to think there's none to hold it; Hard that those who once unrolled it Now must furl it with a sigh.
Page 228 - If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?
Page 64 - ... tossing mane. A moment in the British camp — A moment — and away Back to the pathless forest, Before the peep of day. Grave men there are by broad Santee, Grave men with hoary hairs ; Their hearts are all with Marion, For Marion are their prayers. And lovely ladies greet our band With kindliest welcoming, With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear these trusty arms, And lay them down no more Till we have driven the Briton, Forever, from our shore.
Page 94 - Banner — it is trailing, While around it sounds the wailing Of its people in their woe. For, though conquered, they adore it, — Love the cold, dead hands that bore it, Weep for those who fell before it, Pardon those who trailed and tore it; And oh, wildly they deplore it, Now to furl and fold it so!
Page 236 - So he drove out the man: and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.