Book of Words of the Hutchinson Family

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Baker, Godwin & Company, printers, 1851 - 48 pages

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Page 36 - Out of the world! In she plunged boldly — No matter how coldly The rough river ran — Over the brink of it ! Picture it, — • think of it ! Dissolute man! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care ! Fashioned so slenderly, — Young, and so fair...
Page 36 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate Gone to her death ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care ; — Fashioned so slenderly, Young and so fair...
Page 36 - Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other?
Page 27 - Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around To hear my mournful story in the pleasant vineyard ground, That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was done Full many a corse lay ghastly pale beneath the setting sun.
Page 20 - ... more? Some lone and pleasant dell, some valley in the west, Where, free from toil and pain, the weary soul may rest? The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered —
Page 36 - Loop up her tresses, Escaped from the comb — Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Who was her father?
Page 27 - I never more shall see my own, my native land. Take a message and a token to some distant friends of mine ; For I was born at Bingen — at Bingen on the Rhine.
Page 14 - In vain the bells of war shall ring Of triumphs and revenges, While still is spared the evil thing That severs and estranges. But blest the ear That yet shall hear The jubilant bell That rings the knell Of Slavery forever...
Page 43 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!
Page 13 - For who that leans on His right arm Was ever yet forsaken? What righteous cause can suffer harm If He its part has taken? Though wild and loud, And dark the cloud, Behind its folds His hand upholds The calm sky of to-morrow!

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