Dew-drops of the Nineteenth Century: Gathered and Preserved in Their Brightness and Purity

J. K. Wellman, 1846 - 216 sider

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Side 80 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Side 80 - Nay, not so," Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one who loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
Side 201 - WE watched her breathing through the night Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came, dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Side 183 - Now just as the Gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold, the City shone like the Sun; the Streets also were paved with Gold, and in them walked many men, with Crowns on their heads, Palms in their hands, and golden Harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord.
Side 182 - Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate, and, lo! as they entered, they were transfigured; and they had raiment put on, that shone like gold. There...
Side 21 - I WOULD not live alway ; I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here, Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 2 I would not live alway...
Side 9 - Beside all waters sow, The highway furrows stock, Drop it where thorns and thistles grow, Scatter it on the rock.
Side 69 - ... if the intelligent faculty should be rendered more comprehensive, it would require only a different and apportioned organization, — the body celestial instead of the body terrestrial, — to bring before every human soul the collective experience of its whole past existence. And this, this, perchance, is the dread book of judgment, in the mysterious hieroglyphics of which every idle word is recorded...
Side 180 - I'll taste it, if I must, to-morrow." The Muse of Pindus thither came, And wooed him with the softest numbers That ever scattered wealth and fame Upon a youthful poet's slumbers ; Though sweet the music of the lay, To Childhood it was all a riddle, And "Oh," he cried, "do send away That noisy woman with the fiddle.
Side 146 - An acorn fell from an old oak tree, And lay on the frosty ground — " Oh, what shall the fate of the acorn be ? " Was whispered all around By low-toned voices chiming sweet, Like a floweret's bell when swung — And grasshopper steeds were gathering fleet, And the beetle's hoofs up-rung.

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