The silver cup of sparkling drops from many fountains, for the friends of temperance, ed. by C.B. Porter

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C B Porter
Derby and Miller, 1853 - 312 стор.
 

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Сторінка 135 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each...
Сторінка 263 - We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best.
Сторінка 213 - We consider the voluntary enslaving of one part of the human race by another as a gross violation of the most precious and sacred rights of human nature, as utterly inconsistent with the law of God, which requires us to love our neighbor as ourselves, and as totally irreconcilable with the spirit and principles of the gospel of Christ, which enjoin that "all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.
Сторінка 172 - Earnest words must needs be spoken When the warm heart bleeds or burns With its scorn of wrong, or pity For the wronged, by turns. " But, by all thy nature's weakness, Hidden faults and follies known, Be thou, in rebuking evil, Conscious of thine own. " Not the less shall stern-eyed Duty To thy lips her trumpet set, But with harsher blasts shall mingle Wailings of regret.
Сторінка 168 - Else why is it, that the high and glorious aspirations, which leap like angels from the temple of our hearts, are forever wandering about unsatisfied?
Сторінка 136 - My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary.
Сторінка 147 - ... became short, and, aghast, she stretched forth her hand. " Hugh !" she murmured. He hurried to her with a nervous anxiety. He took her outstretched hand, and clasped it fondly in his own. " Dear Janet !" he said. And for a few moments they remained so. Then, very white, and trembling very much, Janet would have fallen if he had not caught her in his arms and supported her. She did not faint, but she was very weak and greatly agitated. " I was wrong to come so suddenly,
Сторінка 169 - We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth ; there is a realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will be spread...
Сторінка 303 - He does well who does his best;" Is he weary? let him rest: Brothers! I have done my best; I am weary — let me rest...
Сторінка 25 - SWEET MOTHER. The wild, south-west Monsoon has risen, With broad, gray wings of gloom, While here, from out my dreary prison, I look, as from a tomb— Alas ! My heart another tomb.

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