A New Centennial History of the State of Kansas: Being a Full and Complete Civil, Political and Military History of the State, from Its Earliest Settlement to the Present Time, Volume 1

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Inter-State Book Company, 1876 - Kansas - 708 pages
 

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Page 116 - I hear a voice that sings ;Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low- vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Page 97 - But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be.
Page 115 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 678 - And he that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death.
Page 299 - That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.
Page 98 - Strike, till the last armed foe expires, Strike, for your altars and your fires, Strike, for the green graves of your sires, God, and your native land.
Page 351 - I ran it through, even from my boyish days To the very moment that he bade me tell it; Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth 'scapes i...
Page 202 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Page 263 - Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Page 194 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.

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