Every Day in the Year: A Poetical Epitome of the World's History

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James Lauren Ford, Mary K. Ford
Dodd, Mead, 1902 - 443 pages

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Page 425 - Oh may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity. In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild
Page 437 - Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land— Ring in the Christ that is to be. —Alfred Tennyson.
Page 18 - by the distant 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, we raised not a stone— But we left him alone in his glory. —Charles Wolfe.
Page 369 - 1854. 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. II. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Page 127 - A man so various, that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome: Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; Was everything by starts, and nothing long; But, in the course' of one revolving moon, Was chymist, fiddler, statesman and buffoon.
Page 231 - Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or free-man fa'— Let him follow me! By oppression's woes and pains! By your sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in
Page 413 - How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three-andtwentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, But my late spring no bud or blossom showeth. Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, That I to manhood am arrived so near; And inward ripeness doth much
Page 120 - safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won: Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells 1 But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. —Walt Whitman. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Page 210 - stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. For ever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? —Joseph Rodman Drake.
Page 210 - sea Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given; The stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. For ever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?

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