Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Bind 63

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Harper's Magazine Company, 1881
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Side 52 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Side 56 - A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade, For and a shrouding sheet: O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet.
Side 466 - If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
Side 441 - Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain— This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Side 56 - He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Side 243 - Where Traffic blows, From lands of sun to lands of snows ; — This happier one, Its course is run From lands of snow to lands of sun.
Side 544 - For thus saith the LORD of hosts, yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land. And I will shake all nations, and the Desire of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with glory, saith the LORD of hosts, the silver is mine, and the gold is mine, saith the LORD of hosts.
Side 89 - em in ; you'd nothing else to do. The heft of all our life on me must fall; You just lie round, and let me do it all...
Side 450 - Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers
Side 56 - And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead; Go to thy death-bed, He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow All flaxen was his poll, He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha

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