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John Walker, 1848 - Europe - 236 pages
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Page 286 - They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit lingering here ; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear; It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest After the sun's remove.
Page 183 - O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars...
Page 287 - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, Whose light doth trample on my days; My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmerings and decays. O holy hope ! and high humility ! High as the heavens above ; These are your walks, and you have showed them me, To kindle my cold love.
Page 203 - O Land ! For all the broken-hearted The mildest herald by our fate allotted, Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land ! L
Page 151 - Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and with a manly heart.
Page 287 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know At first sight if the bird be flown; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Page 117 - Whoe'er she be, That not impossible she That shall command my heart and me; Where'er she lie, Locked up from mortal eye In shady leaves of destiny: Till that ripe birth Of studied Fate stand forth...
Page 50 - Chinese proverb is true: a single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years
Page 257 - Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail ? Pr'ythee why so pale ? Why so dull and mute, young sinner ? Pr'ythee why so mute ? Will, when speaking well, can't win her, Saying nothing do't ? Pr'ythee why so mute ? Quit, quit for shame, this will not move, This cannot take her ; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her; The Devil take her.
Page 172 - The intellect of man sits enthroned visibly upon his forehead and in his eye ; and the heart of man is written upon his countenance. But the soul reveals itself in the voice only ; as God revealed himself to the prophet of old in the still, small voice, and in the voice from the burning bush.

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