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A. J. Davis ain't answer asked beautiful began behold believe Brother Davis called cause CHAPTER circumstances clairvoyant crossing muddy water dark dear reader divine earth Eliza eternal exclaimed experience expression eyes fact father fear feel felt Fishbough happiness harmony hear heard heart heaven Hence hour human Hyde Park impressions inquired interior intuitionally intuitions Jackson Joseph Lancaster Julia Ann justice lectures letter Levingston light living look Magic Staff magnetic marriage ment mental mind morning mother Mount Beauty mountain Mountain of Power nature never night nothin once operator person positive Poughkeepsie present principle question relation remember replied returned Santa Claus scribe seemed seen skeptical somethin somnambulic soon soul sphere spirit superior condition suppose sympathy tell things thou thought tion true truth Twas vision voice walked weeks what's wisdom woman words young
Page 69 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Page 189 - I WOULD not live alway : I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here, Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 2 I would not live alway...
Page 500 - These wait their doom, from that great law Which makes the past time serve to-day ; And fresher life the world shall draw From their decay.
Page 11 - We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
Page 197 - Och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling! To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her; And gather gear by ev'ry wile That's justified by honour; Not for to hide it in a hedge, Nor for a train attendant; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent. The fear o...
Page 88 - No more thy glassy brook reflects the day, But, choked with sedges, works its weedy way. Along thy glades, a solitary guest, The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries. Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall; And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away, thy children leave the land.
Page 213 - The outworn rite, the old abuse, The pious fraud transparent grown, The good held captive in the use Of wrong alone...
Page 19 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.