The Old, Old Story: A Novel

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Lippincott, 1894 - Всего страниц: 496
 

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Стр. 217 - STAY, stay at home, my heart, and rest ; Home-keeping hearts are happiest, For those that wander they know not where Are full of trouble and full of care ; To stay at home is best. Weary and homesick and distressed, They wander east, they wander west, And are baffled and beaten and blown about By the winds of the wilderness of doubt ; To stay at home is best.
Стр. 461 - But all God's angels come to us disguised ; Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, One after other lift their frowning masks, And we behold the seraph's face beneath, All radiant with the glory and the calm Of having looked upon the front of God.
Стр. 496 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Стр. 226 - other friends remain,' That 'loss is common to the race' — And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain. That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more. Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.
Стр. 235 - God keeps a niche In Heaven to hold our idols ; and albeit He brake them to our faces and denied That our close kisses should impair their white, I know we shall behold them raised, complete, The dust swept from their beauty, — glorified New Memnons singing in the great God-light.
Стр. 158 - I would do what I pleased ; and doing what I pleased, I should have my will ; and having my will, I should be contented ; and when one is contented, there is no more to be desired ; and when there is no more to be , desired, there's an end of it...
Стр. 169 - Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, 'My life is dreary, He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
Стр. 61 - It lies not in our power to love, or hate, For will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stript, long ere the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect. The reason no man knows; let it suffice, What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Стр. 165 - Witch-elms that counterchange the floor Of this flat lawn with dusk and bright; And thou, with all thy breadth and height Of foliage, towering sycamore; How often, hither wandering down, My Arthur found your shadows fair, And shook to all the liberal air The dust and din and steam of town! He brought an eye for all he saw; He...
Стр. 165 - Till from the garden and the wild A fresh association blow, And year by year the landscape grow Familiar to the stranger's child; As year by year the labourer tills His wonted glebe, or lops the glades; And year by year our memory fades From all the circle of the hills.

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