Canadian Quarterly Review and Family Magazine, Band 1,Ausgabe 4

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1864
 

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Seite 225 - That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truths half so sage As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honor, — The hillside for...
Seite 225 - But, when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muffled drum, Follow the funeral car; They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won, And after him lead his masterless steed, While peals the minute gun.
Seite 225 - That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth; But no man heard the tramping, Or saw the train go forth; Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun, Noiselessly as the springtime Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves, — So, without...
Seite 225 - Along the emblazoned wall. This was the bravest warrior That ever buckled sword ; This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen On the deathless page truths half so sage As he wrote down for men.
Seite 225 - And no man saw it e'er; For the angels of God upturned the sod, And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth; But no man heard the trampling, Or saw the train go forth: Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun...
Seite 225 - With the incarnate Son of God. O lonely tomb in Moab's land! O dark Beth-peor's hill! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath his mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell; He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him he loved so well.
Seite 253 - Verses," composed of her own poems, was published. Besides these volumes, she contributed largely to various magazines and periodicals. 1. Sow with a generous hand; Pause not for toil and pain; Weary not through the heat of summer, Weary not through the cold spring rain; But wait till the autumn comes For the sheaves of golden grain.
Seite 253 - Sow; — while the seeds are lying In the warm earth's bosom deep, And your warm tears fall upon it, They will stir in their quiet sleep; And the green blades rise the quicker, Perchance, for the tears you weep.
Seite 228 - ... were told mercifully that they could not live — the unutterable agony ; the plea for somebody on whom to call ; the longing eyes that poured out prayers ; the looking on mortal as if its resources were infinite ; the fearful looking to the immortal, as if it were so far off, so implacable, that the dying appeal would be in vain ; the open lips through which one could almost look at the quaking heart below ; the ghastliness of brow and tangled hair; the closing pangs, the awful rest at last....
Seite 227 - ... at the scene. The grating of the murderous saw drove me into the open air, but in the second hospital which I visited, a wounded man had just expired, and I encountered his body at the threshold.

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