Clarence Belmont; Or, A Lad of Honor

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Kilner & Company, 1894 - 288 strani

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Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 162 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands : But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed, Oth.
Stran 123 - BEHIND him lay the gray Azores, Behind, the Gates of Hercules ; Before him not the ghost of shores ; Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo ! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak; what shall I say?
Stran 108 - THERE'S beauty all around our paths, if but our watchful eyes Can trace it midst familiar things, and through their lowly guise...
Stran 26 - The Reaper said, and smiled ; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Stran 38 - The pomp of kings, the shepherd's humbler pride. When thus Creation's charms around combine, Amidst the store should thankless pride repine? Say, should the philosophic mind disdain That good which makes each humbler bosom vain?
Stran 21 - In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Yet not unmeet it was that one like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
Stran 16 - She is not dead — the child of our affection -•But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule.
Stran 220 - Prune thou thy words, the thoughts control, That o'er thee swell and throng; They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong. " But he who lets his feelings run In soft, luxurious flow, Shrinks when hard service must be done, And faints at every woe. " Faith's meanest deed more favour bears, Where hearts and wills are weighed, Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, Which bloom their hour and fade.
Stran 123 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules ; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said : "Now must we pray, For lo ! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say ?" "Why, say, 'Sail on ! sail on ! and on !'" "My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak.
Stran 73 - Awoke my childhood's glee ; The measured chime — the thundering burst — Where is my own blue sea? Oh! rich your myrtle's breath may rise, Soft, soft your winds may be ; Yet my sick heart within me dies — *> Where...

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