Our Young Folks, Volume 1

John Townsend Trowbridge, Lucy Larcom, Gail Hamilton
Ticknor and Fields, 1865

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Página 725 - ... quit thee with disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust! Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit ! By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on— it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one, — and here he lies.
Página 123 - And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good- will to men...
Página 725 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone...
Página 725 - Near this spot Are deposited the remains of one Who possessed beauty without vanity, Strength without insolence, Courage without ferocity, And all the virtues of man without his vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery If inscribed over human ashes, Is but a just tribute to the memory of BOATSWAIN, a Dog Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803, And died at Newstead Abbey, Nov.
Página 84 - THE SANDPIPER. Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I ; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and down the beach we flit, — One little sandpiper and I.
Página 226 - Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments; As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.
Página 779 - Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her.
Página 84 - He scans me with a fearless eye ; Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, The little sandpiper and I. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night, When the loosed storm breaks furiously? My driftwood fire will burn so bright ! To what warm shelter canst thou fly ? I do not fear for thee, though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky; For are we not God's children both, Thou, little sandpiper, and I ? CELIA THAXTER.
Página 324 - My times are in thy hand," Why should I doubt or fear ? My Father's hand will never cause His child a needless tear. 4 " My times are in thy hand," — Jesus the crucified ! The hand my cruel sins had pierced Is now my guard and guide.
Página 385 - Away with cant, and let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone.

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