The two miss Flemings, by the author of 'Rare pale Margaret'.

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S. Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, 1879
 

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Page 88 - Do but look on her eyes, they do light All that Love's world compriseth. Do but look on her hair, it is bright As Love's star when it riseth. Do but mark, her forehead's smoother Than words that soothe her.
Page 18 - Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Page 172 - I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things. But who shall so forecast the years And find in loss a gain to match? Or reach a hand thro' time to catch The far-off interest of tears?
Page 118 - BEFORE the beginning of years, There came to the making of man Time, with a gift of tears; Grief, with a glass that ran; Pleasure, with pain for leaven; Summer, with flowers that fell; Remembrance fallen from heaven, And madness risen from hell; Strength without hands to smite ; Love that endures for a breath; Night, the shadow of light, And life, the shadow of death.
Page 1 - The gods may release That they made fast; Thy soul shall have ease In thy limbs at the last; But what shall they give thee for life, sweet life that is overpast?
Page 202 - In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Page 149 - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune...
Page 15 - And that servant who knew his master's will, but did not make ready or act according to his will, shall receive a severe beating. 48 But he who did not know, and did what deserved a beating, shall receive a light beating. Every one to whom much is given, of him will much be required; and of him to whom men commit much they will demand the more.
Page 267 - The dim red morn had died, her journey done, And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain ; Half-fallen across the threshold of the sun, Never to rise again.
Page 70 - There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men" With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away The comfortable green and juicy hay From human pastures; or, O torturing fact! Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe" Our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes.

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