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answered appearance asked beautiful become better called character child close comes course dark dear death deep earth eyes face fall father fear feel felt flowers girl give given hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human interest kind lady leave less light living look matter means mind Miss morning mother nature never night once passed person poor present received rest rich round scene seemed seen side smile song soon soul speak spirit stand story strange sure sweet tell thee things thou thought tion true truth turned voice whole wife woman wonder young
Side 417 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown : He raised a mortal to the skies: She drew an angel down.
Side 417 - The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
Side 50 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Side 44 - Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest From Man or Angel the great Architect Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge His secrets, to be scanned by them who ought Rather admire. Or, if they list to try Conjecture, he his fabric of the Heavens Hath left to their disputes — perhaps to move His laughter at their quaint opinions wide...
Side 43 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore When the stormy tempests blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow.
Side 192 - This woman and I, though we came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household stuff as a dish or spoon betwixt us both; yet this she had for her part — The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven and The Practice of Piety, which her father had left her when he died.