The silver cup of sparkling drops from many fountains, for the friends of temperance, ed. by C.B. PorterC B Porter Derby and Miller, 1853 - 312 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 33
Сторінка 9
... wife , with a sickly babe and two famishing little ones , clung to his garments , and besought him not to enter . He tore himself away , for his thirst was strong , and , but for the care of a stranger , his family would have perished ...
... wife , with a sickly babe and two famishing little ones , clung to his garments , and besought him not to enter . He tore himself away , for his thirst was strong , and , but for the care of a stranger , his family would have perished ...
Сторінка 10
... wife of the citizen . " As I looked on all this , my tutor told me that it was the work of the red wine , which leaps gaily up , and laughs over its victims , in demon merriment . I shuddered , father , and resolved never again to taste ...
... wife of the citizen . " As I looked on all this , my tutor told me that it was the work of the red wine , which leaps gaily up , and laughs over its victims , in demon merriment . I shuddered , father , and resolved never again to taste ...
Сторінка 16
... wife of his bosom and the children of his loins . I have seen the faint smile of satisfaction brighten upon my poor mother's pale features , upon such occasions ; and I have marked the sigh , half suppressed , which told the secret of ...
... wife of his bosom and the children of his loins . I have seen the faint smile of satisfaction brighten upon my poor mother's pale features , upon such occasions ; and I have marked the sigh , half suppressed , which told the secret of ...
Сторінка 19
... Wife , " said my father , setting upon the edge of the bed , " when will you leave off crying ? " - " Whenever you leave off drinking , husband , " replied my mother in her kindest manner . My father sprang up , in a hurricane of wrath ...
... Wife , " said my father , setting upon the edge of the bed , " when will you leave off crying ? " - " Whenever you leave off drinking , husband , " replied my mother in her kindest manner . My father sprang up , in a hurricane of wrath ...
Сторінка 32
... abundantly to ga the HARVEST ; for peace is once more a fire - side ; the wife has regained her husb and the orphans have found their fathe SARGENT'S TEMPERANCE TALES . Sweet Mother . BY MRS . E. 0. JUDSON . 32 THE SILVER CUP.
... abundantly to ga the HARVEST ; for peace is once more a fire - side ; the wife has regained her husb and the orphans have found their fathe SARGENT'S TEMPERANCE TALES . Sweet Mother . BY MRS . E. 0. JUDSON . 32 THE SILVER CUP.
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
Alice ardent spirits arms ascer asked beautiful blessed Bope bosom breath bright brow CHARLES LAMB cheek cheerful child cloud cold Constance cottage crime dark dead dear death door dreams drunkard earth ELIZA COOK Ellen Ellerton Emma employment evil exclaimed eyes face father fearful feel flowers friends gaze gentle girl grave hand happy heart heaven holy hope hour husband intemperance laugh light lips looked Morduant morning mother neath ness never night o'er once Oporto pale passed Pay your rent peace poor postilion prayed prayer quires replied Reuben Roseland scene sleep smile Sons of Temperance soon sorrow soul SPARKLING DROPS Stanhope sunbeams sweet Swiftsure tears Temperance temperance movement thee thine thou thought toil Tom Johnson tones traffic tree of death trembling turned uncon voice watched weary weep wife words wretched young youth
Популярні уривки
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.