The Court suburb magazine, ed. by F. Aikin-Kortright, Volume 2

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Fanny Aikin- Kortright
1870
 

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Page 244 - WISH MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Page 10 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 396 - In yonder grave a druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave ; The year's best sweets shall duteous rise ^ To deck its poet's sylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds His airy harp shall now be laid, That he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, May love through life the soothing shade.
Page 398 - There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Page 484 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 466 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Page 397 - Unpolish'd gems no ray on pride bestow, And latent metals innocently glow ; Approach. Great nature studiously behold ! And eye the mine without a wish for gold. Approach ; but awful ! lo ! the ^Egerian grot, Where, nobly pensive, St.
Page 65 - There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods...
Page 230 - Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred and ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink, I was a stranger and ye took me in; naked and ye clothed me, I was sick and ye visited me, I was in prison and ye came unto me.
Page 12 - Meek creatures ! the first mercy of the earth, veiling with hushed softness its dintless rocks ; creatures full of pity, covering with strange and tender honour the scarred disgrace of ruin, — laying quiet finger on the trembling stones, to teach them rest.

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