Voices from the Kenduskeag

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Jane Sophia Appleton, Mrs. Cornelia Crosby Barrett
David Bugbee, 1848 - Bangor (Me.) - 286 pages
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Page 144 - 1 To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been.
Page 188 - For, behold, I create new heavens and a new earth; and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind. But be ye glad and rejoice forever in that which I create.
Page 228 - Oh, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland ; the resounding shore ; The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning yields; And all that echoes to the song of even; All that the mountains sheltering bosom shields ; And all the dread magnificence of Heaven; Oh, how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven!
Page 57 - rival song, And on his destined circuit bounding, With thunder-step he speeds along. The sight gives angels strength, though greater Than angels' utmost thought sublime,— And all thy wondrous works, Creator ! Still bloom as in Creation's prime. GABRIEL. And fleetly, thought surpassing, fleetly, The earth's green pomp is spinning round, And Paradise alternates sweetly With night
Page 57 - spheral chase. And storms, with rival fury heaving, From land to sea, from sea to land, Still, as they rave, a chain are weaving Of deepest efficacy grand. There burning Desolation blazes, Precursor of the Thunder's way, But, Lord, thy servants own with praises The
Page 117 - away, Thou canst not hear the sound to-day; ; Twas water lost upon the ground, Or wind that vanisheth in sound; Oh ! who shall gather it, or tell How idly from the lip it fell. 'Tis written with an iron pen; And thou shalt hear it yet again ! A solemn thing it
Page 249 - nothing covered that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known.
Page 228 - sheltering bosom shields ; And all the dread magnificence of Heaven; Oh, how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven!
Page 21 - shrine its image burns ! Star of the Morn, my spirit yearns To be with thee ! Lord of the desert sky ! Night's last, lone heir, Benign thou smilest from on high, Radiant as if an angel's eye Were watching there. Is it a poet's dream ? Or can it be That in yon orb a spirit reigns, Who knows this earth, and kindly
Page 117 - Tis written with an iron pen; And thou shalt hear it yet again ! A solemn thing it then shall seem To trifle with a holy theme.

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