Holiday Tales: Christmas in the Adirondacks

Capa
Springfield printing and binding Company, 1897 - 118 páginas

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Página 79 - When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: and thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.
Página 109 - Come, let your brown hair just lighted with gold Fall on your shoulders again as of old : Let it drop over my forehead to-night, Shading my faint eyes away from the light ; For with its sunny-edged shadows once more Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore ; Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep ; Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
Página 108 - Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep! Mother, dear mother, the years have been long Since I last listened your lullaby song: Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem Womanhood's years have been only a dream. Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep; — Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!
Página 108 - BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for to-night ! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore ; Kiss from my forhead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair ; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep ; — Rock me to sleep...
Página 108 - ROCK ME TO SLEEP BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again, just for to-night! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!
Página 109 - Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep. Over my heart in the days that are flown No love like mother-love ever has shone; No other worship abides and endures — Faithful, unselfish and patient like yours. None like a mother can charm away pain. From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. Slumber's soft calm o'er my heavy lids creep; Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep.
Página 113 - Touch hands, touch hands with those that stay. Strong hands to weak, old hands to young, around the Christmas board, touch hands. The false forget, the foe forgive, for every guest will go and every fire burn low and cabin empty stand. Forget, forgive, for who may say that Christmas day may ever come to host or guest again. Touch hands.
Página 77 - I know nothing that could, in this view, be said better, than " do unto others as ye would that others should do unto you...
Página 79 - Book, but that doesn't matter, for we all know the words, — it be from the great prayer, — ' Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us...

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