Beulah

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Carleton, publisher, 1865
 

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Page 204 - The moving Moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide; Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside...
Page 36 - In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Page 252 - Man doth not yield him to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will.
Page 204 - Like clouds that rake the mountainsummits, Or waves that own no curbing hand. How fast has brother followed brother From sunshine to the sunless land ! Yet I, whose lids from infant slumber Were earlier raised, remain to hear A timid voice, that asks in whispers, " Who next will drop and disappear...
Page 280 - Why drag about this corpse of your memory, lest you contradict somewhat you have stated in this or that public place ? Suppose you should contradict yourself ; what then...
Page 17 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 254 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Page 311 - And further, by these, my son, be admonished : of making many books there is no end ; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
Page 161 - I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.
Page 253 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist; A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

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