The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine, Volume 50 (Google eBook)
Charles Fenno Hoffman, Timothy Flint, Lewis Gaylord Clark, John Holmes Agnew, Kinahan Cornwallis
Allen, 1857 - American periodicals
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Abram Acadia arms beautiful Bedford Basin blessed called Captain church Colonel Blackford dark dear deep door dream Epictetus eyes face father Fearless feel feet Fessenden Garboard gazed ghost Hadrian hand head hear heard heart honor horse John Ormond King's English labor lady land leave light Lindhorst linguicides Little Dorrit living look Louisburgh Mary midshipman miles mind morning never New-York night o'er officer Ojibway once Pacha passed Picton pleasant present Preston Mill pulque reader replied river Sampson scarcely scene seat seemed seen side Silkeborg smile soon spirit stood story sweet tears tell thee thing Thomas Cart Thomas Cartwright thou thought tion took trees turned vaqueros voice walk whole wind words Yankee young
Page 554 - Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 196 - There is something in sickness that breaks down the pride of manhood ; that softens the heart, and brings it back to the feelings of infancy. Who that has languished, even in advanced life, in sickness and despondency ; who that has pined on a weary bed in the neglect and loneliness of a foreign land ; but has thought on the mother " that looked on his childhood...
Page 406 - Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics.
Page 522 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest ? When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Page 195 - The bustle around seemed to waken the mother from a wretched reverie. She raised her glazed eyes, and looked about with a faint wildness. As the men approached with cords to lower the coffin into the grave, she wrung her hands, and broke into an agony of grief. The poor woman who attended her took her by the arm, endeavored to raise her from the earth, and to whisper something like consolation — "Nay, now — nay, now — don't take it so sorely to heart.
Page 615 - But it may be that I shall leave a name sometimes remembered with expressions of goodwill in the abodes of those whose lot it is to labour and to earn their daily bread by the sweat of their brow, when they shall recruit their exhausted strength with abundant and untaxed food, the sweeter because it is no longer leavened by a sense of injustice.
Page 613 - Like a sick child that knoweth not his mother while she blesses And drops upon his burning brow the coolness of her kisses — That turns his fevered eyes around...
Page 195 - ... he carried his whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a sceptre, and as his horse jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to...
Page 195 - That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse that had outlived...