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Adolf Meyer army asked beautiful Belton Blackwood's Magazine called Christian Church Church of England Cicely cried dear Demeter doubt Dutch Elsa England English Esther Johnson eyes face Fanny feeling felt girl give Greek hand head heart honour hope Hugh Galbraith ical Kate kind Kirke knew lady land laugh less letter living look Mallett Manneville marriage married matter means ment Metho Methodist Mildmay mind Monique Montenegro morning Mount Hercules Naarden nature never night once Paramaribo perhaps Persephone poet poetry poor regiment replied returned seemed Sir Hugh smile speak Stadtholder suppose sure Surinam Swift talk tell Temple thing thought tion Travers Turk turn Vecht walked Wesley Wesley's Whig whole wife woman words Wordsworth write Yorke young Zeus
Page 219 - Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met, or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Page 45 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Page 137 - COMFORT ye, comfort ye my people, saith your GOD. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned : for she hath received of the LORD'S hand double for all her sins.
Page 94 - I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a...
Page 221 - At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is stilL There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Page 406 - We only toil, who are the first of things. And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown : Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings,
Page 58 - Oh yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; That nothing walks with aimless feet ; That not one life shall be...
Page 116 - I cannot say he is everywhere alike ; were he so, I should do him injury to compare him with the greatest of mankind. He is many times flat, insipid — his comic wit degenerating into clenches, his serious swelling into bombast. But he is always great when some great occasion is presented to him...
Page 217 - Rockabye Baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, cradle and all.