A Speckled Bird

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G.W. Dillingham Company, 1902 - 426 Seiten
 

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Seite 389 - And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear, nor dark: But it shall be one day which shall be known to the Lord, not day, nor night: but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.
Seite 210 - ANOTHER lamb, O Lamb of God, behold, Within this quiet fold, Among Thy Father's sheep I lay to sleep! A heart that never for a night did rest Beyond its mother's breast. Lord, keep it close to Thee, Lest waking it should bleat and pine for met THE TAX-GATHERER. " A ND pray, who are you ? " •iXSaid the violet blue To the Bee, with surprise At his wonderful size, In her eye-glass of dew. "I, madam," quoth he, " Am a publican Bee, Collecting the tax On honey and wax.
Seite 128 - A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.
Seite 67 - ... Unflinching under the unfaltering hand, That waits to prove thee to the uttermost. It were not hard to suffer by His hand, If thou couldst see His face ; — but in the dark ! That is the one last trial : — be it so, Christ was forsaken, so must thou be too : How couldst thou suffer but in seeming, else ? Thou wilt not see the face nor feel the hand, Only the cruel crushing of the feet, When through the bitter night the Lord comes down To tread the winepress. — Not by sight, but faith, Endure,...
Seite 381 - Under north skies white and wan. Each panter in the darkness Is a demon-haunted soul, The shadowy, phantom were-wolves, Who circle round the Pole. Their tongues are crimson flaming, Their haunted blue eyes gleam, And they strain them to the utmost O'er frozen lake and stream ; Their cry one note of agony, That is neither yelp nor bark, These panters of the northern waste, Who hound them to the dark.
Seite 179 - Because, although in act and word As lowly as a wife can be, Her manners, when they call me lord, Remind me 'tis by courtesy...
Seite 279 - ... the same poem. The little " Six Years Old" says that at night she lies awake for hours. And she thinks of what is going on in the garden, as well as of the people who are downstairs with her grandfather and grandmother : — " I fancy the fairies make merry, With thorns for their knives and their forks ; They have currants for bottles of sherry, And the little brown heads are the corks. A leaf makes the tent they sit under, Their ball-room's a white lily-cup ; Shall I know all about them I wonder,...
Seite 332 - For loyalty is still the same Whether it win or lose the game ; True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin'd upon.
Seite 381 - ... Campbell, William Wilfred. The Mother. (In John W. Garvin's Canadian Poets and Poetry.) I dreamed that a rose-leaf hand did cling; Oh, you cannot bury a mother in spring! I nestled him soft to my throbbing breast, And stole me back to my long, long rest. The Were-wolves. Victorian Anthology.) (In Stedman's Each panter in the darkness Is a demon-haunted soul, The shadowy, phantom were-wolves That circle round the pole. Carman, Bliss. The Nancy's Pride. (In his Ballads of Lost Haven.) Her crew...

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