Friendship's Offering: And Winter's Wreath: a Christmas and New Year's Present

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Smith, Elder, 1826 - Gift books
 

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Page 395 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER I REMEMBER, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light!
Page 395 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing...
Page 396 - The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birth-day, — The tree is living yet ! I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember The fir trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis...
Page 357 - When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me: Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.
Page 88 - To mark the sufferings of the babe That cannot speak its woe ; To see the infant tears gush forth, Yet know not why they flow ; To meet the meek uplifted eye, That fain would ask relief, Yet can but tell of agony, — THIS is a mother's grief ! -\ Thro...
Page 393 - Shine in the light, that streaks the sev'ring clouds, Bid her speed on, and greet her with a song : — Go, beautiful and gentle Dove, — But whither wilt thou go ? For though the clouds ride high above, How sad and waste is all below ! The wife of Shem, a moment to her breast Held the poor bird, and kiss'd it.
Page 37 - And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Page 362 - The year's in the wane, There is nothing adorning, The night has no eve, And the day has no morning ;— Cold winter gives warning.
Page 207 - That wast ere time, — shalt be when time is o'er ; Ages and worlds begin — grow old — and end, Systems and suns thy changeless throne before, Commence and close their cycles : — lost, I bend To earth my prostrate soul, and shudder and adore...
Page 89 - O'er what was once the chief Of all the treasured joys of earth, — This is a Mother's grief. Yet when the first wild throb is past Of anguish and despair, To lift the eye of faith to heaven, And think — my child is there...

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