Sketches of Life and Landscape

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Spalding & Shepard, 1848 - 80 halaman
 

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Halaman 70 - I am old ! " I have tottered here to look once more On the pleasant scene where I delighted In the careless, happy days of yore, Ere the garden of my heart was blighted To the core ! I have tottered here to look once more.
Halaman 68 - It was Summer, and we went to school, Dapper country lads, and little maidens ; Taught the motto of the " dunce's stool," Its grave import still my fancy ladens . " Here's a fool ! " It was Summer, and we went to school.
Halaman 69 - One sweet spirit broke the silent spell ; Ah ! to me her name was always Heaven ! She besought him all his grief to tell: (I was then thirteen, and she eleven,) Isabel ! One sweet spirit broke the silent spell. Angel...
Halaman 62 - ... sore ! It is not what it seems to be : For sale ! it shall be mine no more. Come, turn it o'er, and view it well ; I would not have you purchase dear...
Halaman 72 - Oft the aisle of that old church we trod, Guided thither by an angel mother, Now she sleeps beneath its sacred sod, — Sire and sisters, and my little brother — Gone to God ! , Oft the aisle of that old church we trod...
Halaman 83 - О grant but this ! The Eden won : — insatiate still, Insatiate still ; — A wider, fairer range, he will ; Some mountain higher than his hill ; Some prospect fancy's map to fill ; A wider, fairer range, he will ; Insatiate .still...
Halaman 67 - Angel, said he sadly, I am old ; Earthly hope no longer hath a morrow ; Now, why I sit here thou hast been told. In his eye another pearl of sorrow ; Down it rolled ! Angel, said he sadly, I am old.
Halaman 50 - Good Ruth has called the younker folk To dress below ; Full welcome was the word she spoke, Down, down they go, The cottage quietude is broke, — The snow ! — the snow...
Halaman 61 - I'll sell it, whatsoe'er it bring; — The World at auction here to-day 1 It is a glorious thing to see ; Ah, it has cheated me so sore ! It is not what it seems to be : For sale...
Halaman 71 - In the cottage yonder I was born : Long my happy home that humble dwelling; There the fields of clover, wheat and corn ; There the spring with limpid nectar swelling. Ah, forlorn ! In the cottage yonder I was born.

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