The Worst Foe: A Temperance Story

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W.G. Hubbard & Company, 1888 - Всего страниц: 385
 

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Стр. 312 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Стр. 202 - O unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods? where I had hope to spend, Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both.
Стр. 152 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death ! where is thy sting ? The Universal Prayer FATHER of all!
Стр. 69 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Стр. 80 - OF all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Стр. 190 - Accuse not nature, she hath done her part; Do thou but thine, and be not diffident Of wisdom; she deserts thee not, if thou Dismiss not her, when most thou need'st her nigh, By attributing overmuch to things Less excellent, as thou thyself perceiv'st.
Стр. 27 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives, T
Стр. 248 - OH ! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream : Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell ; Mourn — where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell!
Стр. 228 - Lo! a cloud's about to vanish From the day; And a brazen wrong to crumble Into clay. Lo! the Right's about to conquer; Clear the way! With the right shall many more Enter smiling at the door; With the giant, Wrong, shall fall Many others, great and small, That for ages long have held us For their prey. Men of thought and men of action, Clear the way!
Стр. 173 - Away ! we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress : Will this unteach us to complain ? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou — who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

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