The Ladies' Scrap-book ...

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S. Andrus and son, 1845 - Gift books - 336 pages
 

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Page 110 - God ! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain : To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
Page 110 - I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; , So many weeks ere the poor fools will...
Page 142 - And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see, And her paddle I soon shall hear; Long and loving our life shall be, And I'll hide the maid in a cypress tree, When the footstep of death is near...
Page 110 - To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys...
Page 2 - An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned,' and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints.
Page 82 - ... room kept so neatly for her, with its mirror hanging by the window, in which to braid her hair by the morning light — her bed prepared for her by her mother's hand — the primroses in her garden peeping through the snow — old Tray, who ever welcomed her home with his dim 6 white eyes — the pony and the cow ; friends all, and inmates of that happy household.
Page 84 - The maiden having prayed to her Father in heaven, then thought of her father on earth. Alas! they were not far separated! The father was lying but a short distance from his child; he too had sunk down in the drifting snow, after having in less than an hour, exhausted all the strength of fear, pity, hope, despair and resignation, that could rise in a father's heart, blindly seeking to rescue his only child from death, thinking that one desperate exertion might enable them to perish in each other's...
Page 143 - And the boat returned no more. But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp This lover and maid so true Are seen at the hour of midnight damp. To cross the Lake by a fire-fly lamp. And paddle their white canoe ! MARCHIONESS DOWAGER OF DONEGALL.
Page 93 - ... to her recollection the image of her husband rushing out into the storm, and of a daughter therein lost, till she beheld that very husband kneeling tenderly by her bed-side, and that very daughter smoothing the pillow on which her aching temples reclined. But she knew from the white, steadfast countenances before her that there had been tribulation and deliverance, and she looked on the beloved beings ministering by her bed, as more fearfully dear to her from the unimagined danger from which...
Page 80 - Father o' them on earth whose parents he has taken up to heaven ; and therefore it is that they for whom so many have fears, fear not at all for themselves, but go dancing and singing along like children whose parents are both alive ! Would it not be so with our dear Hannah ? So douce and thoughtful a child, — but never sad nor miserable, — ready, it is true, to shed tears for little, but as ready to dry them up and break out into smiles ! I know not why it is, husband, but this night my heart...

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