Memorials of Dixie-land: Orations, Essays, Sketches, and Poems on Topics Historical, Commemorative, Literary and Patriotic

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Byrd printing Company, 1919 - 604 Seiten
 

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Seite 361 - It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man...
Seite 220 - What constitutes a state? Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate ; Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned ; Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ; Not starred and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No : MEN, high-minded MEN...
Seite 362 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years, But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
Seite 311 - 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...
Seite 277 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Seite 80 - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat : Oh ! be swift, my soul, to answer Him ! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
Seite 133 - She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking — Ah! little they think who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking...
Seite 314 - Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Seite 274 - Gul in her bloom; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute: Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In color though varied, in beauty may vie...
Seite 252 - Such was he: his work is done. But while the races of mankind endure, Let his great example stand Colossal, seen of every land, And keep the soldier firm, the statesman pure : Till in all lands and thro...

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