Rambles Overland: A Trip Across the Continent

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Universalist Publishing House, 1883 - 245 Seiten
 

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Seite 114 - The law locks up both man and woman Who steals the goose from off the common, But lets the greater felon loose Who steals the common from the goose.
Seite 173 - Know'st thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom ? Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom ? Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose ? Know'st thou it ? Thither ! O thither, My dearest and kindest, with thee would I go.
Seite 18 - These are the gardens of the Desert, these The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, For which the speech of England has no name — The Prairies. I behold them for the first, And my heart swells, while the dilated sight Takes in the encircling vastness. Lo! they stretch In airy undulations, far away, As if the Ocean, in his gentlest swell, Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed, And motionless forever.
Seite 158 - I KNEW, by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here...
Seite 5 - Thus I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white; For having now my method by the end, Still as I pulled it came ; and so I penned It down : until at last it came to be For length and breadth the bigness which you see.
Seite 84 - Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny, Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment ; And here receive we from our father Stanley Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
Seite 17 - The first low wash of waves, where soon Shall roll the human sea.
Seite 228 - T is woman that seduces all mankind ; By her we first were taught the wheedling arts.
Seite 98 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods, Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save its own dashings...
Seite 210 - The chestnut-crested plain, Unfolds its robe of green and gold In pasture, grape, and grain ; But on and up, where Nature's heart Beats strong amid the hills, They pause, contented with the wealth That either bosom fills.

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