Marcus Warland: Or, The Long Moss Spring

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T. B. Peterson, 1852 - 287 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 194 - Away, away, my steed and I, Upon the pinions of the wind, All human dwellings left behind : We sped, like meteors through the sky...
الصفحة 1 - Complete in two volumes, paper cover. Price One Dollar; or bound in one volume, cloth, for $1,25.
الصفحة 58 - Oh she is fair ! As fair as Heaven to look upon! as fair As ever vision of the Virgin blest, That weary pilgrim, resting by the fount Beneath the palm, and dreaming to the tune Of flowing waters, duped his soul withal. It was permitted in my pilgrimage To rest beside the fount beneath the tree, Beholding there no vision, but a maid Whose form was light and graceful as the palm, Whose heart was pure and jocund as the fount, And spread a freshness and a verdure round.
الصفحة 166 - The day is fast approaching, when all will be felt to be a dream, a bubble, without the durable riches of the Christian. Nothing else which we may acquire, can be retained when we enter the eternal world. And may I not say, nothing else can ensure us happiness in the present world? for The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's slender hold On earthly bliss. It breaks at every breeze.
الصفحة 259 - tis by the lapwing found. * But if for me thou dost forsake Some other maid, and rudely break Her worshipp'd image from its base, To give to me the ruin'd place ; — Then, fare thee well— I'd rather make My bower upon some icy lake When thawing suns begin to shine, Than trust to love so false as thine...
الصفحة 5 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form. The flames...
الصفحة 111 - Oh ! colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, Is that congealing pang which seizes The trusting bosom, when betray'd.
الصفحة 209 - Rest unto our souls." —Rest unto our souls! — 'tis all we want, — the end of all our wishes and pursuits : give us a prospect of this, we take the wings of the morning, and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth...
الصفحة 48 - ... rolled gradually and reluctantly down his fair oval cheeks; they were not like the sudden, drenching shower, that leaves the air purer and the sky bluer, but the drops that issue from the wounded bark formed of the life-blood of the tree. Beautiful was the spot where the boy sat, and beautiful the vernal morning that awakened Nature to the joy and the beauty of youth. The fountain, over whose basin he was leaning, was one of those clear, deep, pellucid springs, that gush up in the green wilds...
الصفحة 86 - And now, expanded to the beams of truth, New energies, and charms unknown before, * His mind discloses : Fancy now no more Wantons on fickle pinion through the skies; But...

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