A Treasure Chest of Memories |
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They might , and often did grow weary of reading , comparing and filing the
immense flood of correspondence and selections , but no one regretted the
wonderful opportunity afforded them to see and know the tender , romantic ,
chivalrous ...
They might , and often did grow weary of reading , comparing and filing the
immense flood of correspondence and selections , but no one regretted the
wonderful opportunity afforded them to see and know the tender , romantic ,
chivalrous ...
Página 4
... letter from the little blueeyed girl , now grown to womanhood , who , in the days
long gone by , waited at the gate for my daily home coming . How I am thrilled
when I think of those meetings ! Looking way down the road , she would
recognize ...
... letter from the little blueeyed girl , now grown to womanhood , who , in the days
long gone by , waited at the gate for my daily home coming . How I am thrilled
when I think of those meetings ! Looking way down the road , she would
recognize ...
Página 5
All through those anxious days , when my time was divided between home and
the sick chamber miles away , I would never visit the sick one , who was
constantly growing weaker , but I was the bearer of letters like the one before me .
All through those anxious days , when my time was divided between home and
the sick chamber miles away , I would never visit the sick one , who was
constantly growing weaker , but I was the bearer of letters like the one before me .
Página 18
Little by little — an hour a day , Gone with the years that have vanished away
Little by little the race is run ; Trouble and waiting and toil are done ! Little by little
the skies grow clear ; Little by little the sun comes near ; Little by little the days
smile ...
Little by little — an hour a day , Gone with the years that have vanished away
Little by little the race is run ; Trouble and waiting and toil are done ! Little by little
the skies grow clear ; Little by little the sun comes near ; Little by little the days
smile ...
Página 18
Little by little an hour a day , Gone with the years that have vanished away Little
by little the race is run ; Trouble and waiting and toil are done ! Little by little the
skies grow clear ; Little by little the sun comes near ; Little by little the days smile ...
Little by little an hour a day , Gone with the years that have vanished away Little
by little the race is run ; Trouble and waiting and toil are done ! Little by little the
skies grow clear ; Little by little the sun comes near ; Little by little the days smile ...
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Outras edições - Ver tudo
A Treasure Chest of Memories, Volumes 1-2 Joseph Mitchell Chapple Pré-visualização indisponível - 1905 |
A Treasure Chest of Memories (Classic Reprint) Joe Mitchell Chapple Pré-visualização indisponível - 2017 |
A Treasure Chest of Memories (Classic Reprint) Joe Mitchell Chapple Pré-visualização indisponível - 2018 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
Anon answer arms baby beautiful bells blessed brave child comes dark dead dear death deep door dream earth eyes face fair faith fall father fear feel feet flowers forget give glory golden gone grave grow hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hills hold hope hour John keep kind kiss knew land laugh leave letter light lips live look Lord meet memory mind morning mother never night o'er once passed play poor prayer rest rose round seemed side silence sing sleep smile song sorrow soul stand stars sure sweet tears tell thee things thou thought true truth turned voice wait weary wind young
Passagens conhecidas
Página 18 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Página 103 - Whither, midst falling dew. While glow the heavens with the last steps of day. Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?
Página 302 - HEAR the sledges with the bells— Silver bells ! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Página 22 - Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is...
Página 175 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Página 7 - For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard. All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard; For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord. "Amen.
Página 351 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Página 288 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of, forgotten lore, — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door: Only this and nothing more.
Página 323 - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Página 291 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...