Provincial Papers: Being a Collection of Tales and Sketches

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W. Kent, 1861 - 202 страници
 

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Страница 174 - Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, With the curling smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers, With their frequent repetitions, And their wild reverberations, As of thunder in the mountains? I should answer, I should tell you, "From the forests and the prairies...
Страница 180 - Hark ! hark ! the dogs do bark, The beggars are coming to town, Some in rags and some in tags, And some in velvet gowns.
Страница 44 - MYSTERIOUS keeper of the key That opes the gates of Memory, Oft, in thy wildest, simplest strain, We live o'er years of bliss again ! The...
Страница 43 - It is not in the mountains, Nor the palaces of pride, That love will fold his wings up, And rejoicingly abide : But in meek and humble natures His home is ever found; As the lark that sings in heaven Builds its nest upon the ground !
Страница 66 - Buckland's 1823 characterization of "a small flint, the edges of which had been chipped off, as if by striking a light.
Страница 179 - Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind, Of the Northwest- Wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the Kingdom of Ponemah, To the Land of the Hereafter!
Страница 62 - The velocity with which time flies is infinite, as is most apparent to those who look back.
Страница 111 - ... splendor That makes the senses dim ; Beneath a blue pavilion A glorious feast outspread, Where choicest gifts of nature • Abundantly are shed. " A lingering look cast backward Unto the days gone by, , A turning to the future With sad and anxious eye ; Mid AUTUMN'S purple sunsets A dirge-note filla the blast, And tells that soon the brightness Of the year will all be past.
Страница 193 - ... was in those scenes of rural beauty which the Scripture history, without any laboured description, often by a single stroke, presents so livingly to the imagination, as it was when tender thoughts passed Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; when the minstrel-king wandered through the solitudes of Paran, or fields reposing at the feet of Carmel; or, ' as it fell on a day, that the child of the good Shunamite went out to his father to the reapers....

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