The Orphan's Souvenir: A Rochester Book, in Aid of the Rochester Orphan AsylumW. Alling, 1843 - 200 стор. |
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The Orphan's Souvenir: A Rochester Book, in Aid of the Rochester Orphan Asylum Rochester Orphan Asylum Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2023 |
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The Orphan's Souvenir: A Rochester Book, in Aid of the Rochester Orphan ... Rochester Orphan Asylum Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adam Clarke apparitions Arcturus arms Asylum Awake banks beautiful blessed bosom breath bright Briton cataract cheek Clara clouds cold Columbus cornea dark dead dear death debt deep dread dream DRUNKARD'S CHILD earth Ellen eyes face Falls fancy father fear feelings feet friends gaze Genesee George Mansfield give grave hand happy head heart heaven Henry Wilmot hope iron storm Jane Glover kiss ladies Lake Ontario lecting light limestone living look Mary Miss Harding morning mother moved nature neath never night o'er orphan passion poor prayer Puritans retina river ROCHESTER rocks sandstone Satan scene seemed shale sister sleep smile soon soul speak spirit stand Stapleton stood stratum streamlet sweet tears tempest terror thee thing Thou hast thought thousand tion trembling uncon voice waters weary weep wept Western New-York whip-poor-will Wilmot words youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 39 - Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun...
Сторінка 58 - There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out, For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful, and good husbandry : Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all ; admonishing, That we should 'dress us fairly for our end. Thus may we gather honey from the weed, And make a moral of the devil himself.
Сторінка 161 - Show me a man who cares no more for one place than another, and I will show you in that same person one who loves nothing but himself.
Сторінка 125 - Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take ; And this I ask for Jesus
Сторінка 170 - Oh, Lady ! these are miracles, which man, Caged in the bounds of Europe's pigmy plan, Can scarcely dream of; which his eye must see, To know how beautiful this world can be ! But soft ! — the tinges of the west decline, And night falls dewy o'er these banks of pine.
Сторінка 165 - This is hearty — cordial — refreshing to us, who are in the same frame of mind with regard to the Pilgrims, as was that guileless Athenian who avowed that he voted for the banishment of Aristides, because he was tired of hearing him always called THE JUST.
Сторінка 161 - Whatever strengthens our local attachments is favorable both to individual and national character. Our home, our birthplace, our native land, — think for a while what the virtues are which arise out of the feelings connected with these words ; and, if thou hast any intellectual eyes, thou wilt then perceive the connection between topography and patriotism.
Сторінка 44 - There is a God !" It is heard in the rustling of the forest leaves, in the warbling of the morning birds, in the whispers of the evening breeze, in the " warm hum of the insects by the side of the babbling brook," in the waterfall, in the rushing of the tempest, and the hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; and in all it saith,
Сторінка 74 - Man never started on an enterprise more grand or perilous than Columbus. He was about to search the wide wastes of an unexplored ocean, for a world which even the most sanguine only dared to hope had an existence. Columbus left Spain with three vessels, so small and poorly constructed, that a madman at the present day would hardly venture in them a hundred miles from land. Two of them had no decks in the center ; and the other, which carried the High Admiral," was but little better fitted to meet...
Сторінка 76 - They leap from their hammocks — they rush to the decks — and, gazing with strained eye-balls over the bows, see a faint light in the distance, moving, as it seems, from place to place. Hoping, hardly daring to hope, they wait for morning : when, lo ! as it breaks, one of those fair isles which stud the ocean, rises from the shades of receding night.