A Biographical Sketch Of The Class Of 1826, Yale College

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Page 70 - My heart is bow'd as with a spell. This rending pang ! — would I could tell What ails my throbbing brow ! One look upon that fading streak Which bounds yon eastern sky ; One tear to cool my burning cheek ; And then a word I cannot speak — "My native land — Good-bye.
Page 37 - Revolution, he entered the army as a private and rose to the rank of captain.
Page 94 - AM, 1825; was a teacher in the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb at Hartford, Conn...
Page 14 - June, 1802, he received the degree of Doctor of Medicine from the Medical Department of the University of Pennsylvania.
Page 9 - Buel, was born in Salisbury, March i, 1826. In 1845 he entered the office of his brother in Waterbury, and after the usual course of study was admitted to the bar. He soon afterwards became his brother's partner, and in that relation attained a highly respectable rank in his profession and a considerable practice. In 1849 and 1850 he held the office of town clerk. Not long after his brother's removal to New Haven, he relinquished the practice of the law and accepted...
Page 82 - CoUnty, in 1829, commencing practice in 1830, at Pittsfield, Massachusetts. He was a member of the House of Representatives of Massachusetts, from 1834 to 1838, and was Speaker, from 1835 to 1838, and in that year was appointed Bank Commissioner, and held the office three years.
Page 69 - ... that thou art mine, I feel my bosom cling to thine — That I am part of thee. I see thee blended with the wave, As children see the earth Close up a sainted mother's grave ; They weep for her they cannot save, And feel her holy worth. Thou mountain land — thou land of rock, I...
Page 69 - Which nurse a race that have not bow'd Their knee to aught but God ; Thy mountain floods which proudly fling Their waters to the fall — Thy birds, which cut with rushing wing The sky that greets thy coming spring, And thought thy glories small. But now...
Page 7 - He was transferred to the chair of the Principles and Practice of Surgery in the College of Physicians and Surgeons...
Page 68 - THE boat swings from the pebbled shore. And proudly drives her prow ; The crested waves roll up before : Yon dark, gray land, I see no more — How sweet it seemeth now! Thou dark gray land, my Native Land, Thou land of rock and pine, I'm speeding from thy golden sand ; But can I wave a farewell hand To such a shore as thine...

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