Argosy All-story Weekly, Volume 32

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Frank Andrew Munsey
F. A. Munsey, 1900
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Page 668 - I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even ; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky; — He sang to my ear, — they sang to my eye.
Page 564 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Page 549 - We rise by the things that are under our feet ; By what we have mastered of good and gain ; By the pride deposed and the passion slain, And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.
Page 460 - And it shall come to pass, that when they make a long blast with the ram's horn, and when ye hear the sound of the trumpet, all the people shall shout with a great shout; and the wall of the city shall fall down flat, and the people shall ascend up every man straight before him.
Page 336 - WHENE'ER a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
Page 329 - I ask not a life for the dear ones, All radiant, as others have done. But that life may have just enough shadow To temper the glare of the sun; I would pray God to guard them from evil.
Page 352 - tis the finer Portion of our mind and heart: Linked to something still diviner Than mere language can impart; Ever prompting — ever seeing Some improvement yet to plan; To uplift our fellow-being — And like man to feel for man!
Page 661 - If all our lives were one broad glare Of sunlight, clear, unclouded; If all our path were smooth and fair, By no soft gloom enshrouded ; If all life's flowers were fully blown Without the sweet unfolding, And happiness were rudely thrown On hands too weak for holding — Should we not miss the twilight hours, The gentle haze and sadness? Should we not long for storms and showers...
Page 673 - Then, when she raised her eyes to his, and he saw that they were...
Page 615 - A RAVELLED rainbow overhead Lets down to life its varying thread : Love's blue, — Joy's gold, — and, fair between, Hope's shifting light of emerald green ; With, either side, in deep relief, A crimson Pain, — a, violet Grief.

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