Nellie's Memories

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Lippincott, 1888
 

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Page 210 - 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, "There is no joy but calm!
Page 292 - Wi" thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
Page 261 - Dear friend, far off, my lost desire, So far, so near in woe and weal; 0 loved the most, when most I feel There is a lower and a higher; Known and unknown; human, divine; Sweet human hand and lips and eye; Dear heavenly friend that canst not die, Mine, mine, for ever, ever mine; Strange friend, past, present, and to be; Loved deeplier, darklier understood; Behold...
Page 292 - O, WERT thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Page 359 - ... a man shall leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife ; and they shall be one flesh.
Page 259 - Thy friend put in thy bosom : wear his eyes Still in thy heart, that he may see what's there. If cause require, thou art his sacrifice ; Thy drops of blood must pay down all his fear : But love is lost ; the way of friendship's gone ; Though David had his Jonathan, Christ his John.
Page 317 - I sing. (O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. *O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each, That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, And dark and true and tender is the North.
Page 44 - And wilt thou leave me thus? Say nay! say nay! And wilt thou leave me thus, That hath loved thee so long In wealth and woe among: And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus? Say nay! say nay!
Page 385 - In the world's broad field of battle. In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Page 27 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...

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