Plutocracy: Or, American White Slavery; a Politico-social Novel

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American News Company, 1888 - Politics and culture - 431 pages
 

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Contents

I
1
II
14
III
20
IV
30
V
39
VI
44
VII
55
VIII
60
XXVIII
248
XXIX
263
XXXI
270
XXXII
274
XXXIII
282
XXXIV
286
XXXV
294
XXXVII
308

IX
66
X
77
XI
85
XII
90
XIII
94
XIV
101
XV
110
XVI
130
XVII
143
XVIII
157
XIX
164
XXI
176
XXII
179
XXIII
185
XXIV
205
XXV
217
XXVI
222
XXVII
228
XXXIX
318
XL
327
XLI
334
XLII
337
XLIV
352
XLV
356
XLVI
361
XLVIII
369
L
374
LI
379
LII
385
LIV
393
LV
405
LVI
409
LVII
415
LVIII
422
LIX
425

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Page 70 - Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbor's.
Page 431 - For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.
Page iii - Parnassus' fountain winds, And that Truth, robed in song's benign disguise, Has won the coyest, soothed the sternest minds : So the fond mother her sick infant blinds, Sprinkling the edges of the cup she gives With sweets; delighted with the balm it finds Round the smooth brim, the medicine it receives, Drinks the delusive draught, and, thus deluded, lives.
Page 214 - ... first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his countrymen...
Page 193 - Resolved, That the thanks of this Association be tendered to Z. Richards, Esq., our retiring President, for the able and impartial manner in which he has presided over the deliberations of this body.
Page 374 - Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated ; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise?
Page iii - O thou, the Muse, that not with fading palms Circlest thy brows on Pindus, but among The Angels warbling their celestial psalms, Hast for thy coronal a golden throng Of everlasting stars! make thou my song Lucid and pure ; breathe thou the flame divine Into my bosom ; and forgive the wrong, If with grave truth light fiction I combine, And sometimes grace my page with other flowers than thine! The world, thou know'st, on tiptoe ever flies Where warbling most Parnassus...
Page 303 - ... before the hour of six o'clock in the morning or after the hour of nine o'clock in the evening...
Page 10 - Oh would I were a boy again, When life seemed formed of sunny years, And all the heart knew of pain Was wept away in transient tears!

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