Kate Aylesford: A Story of the Refugees

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T. B. Peterson, 1855 - New Jersey - 336 pages

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Page 279 - By thine Agony and bloody Sweat ; by thy Cross and Passion ; by thy precious Death and Burial ; by thy glorious Resurrection and Ascension ; and by the coming of the Holy Ghost, Good Lord, deliver us.
Page 78 - SWEET AUBURN ! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed : Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Page 99 - Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learned to stray ; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Page 278 - Remember not, Lord, our offences, nor the offences of our forefathers ; neither take thou vengeance of our sins : spare us, good Lord, spare thy people, whom thou hast redeemed with thy most precious blood, and be not angry with us for ever.
Page 268 - Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
Page 351 - A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of an angel 13 light. XV.— I WANDERED LONELY. 1804. I WANDERED lonely as a cloud...
Page 317 - God is also in sleep, and dreams advise. Which he hath sent propitious some great good Presaging, since, with sorrow and heart's distress Wearied, I fell asleep : but now lead on ; In me is no delay ; with thee to go Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me Art all things under heaven, all places thou. Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence...
Page 142 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
Page 323 - Is there, in human form, that bears a heart — A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth...
Page 343 - Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd; Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all is, that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king.

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