Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Volume 40

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Charles Dudley Warner
International Society, 1897

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Page 16434 - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there : Oh, say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave? On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Page 16434 - Their blood has washed out their foul footstep's pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave...
Page 16512 - Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...
Page 16570 - No braying horn nor screaming fife At dawn shall call to arms. Their shivered swords are red with rust, Their plumed heads are bowed; Their haughty banner, trailed in dust, Is now their martial shroud. And plenteous funeral tears have washed The red stains from each brow, And the proud forms, by battle gashed, Are free from anguish now. The neighing troop, the flashing blade, The bugle's stirring blast, The charge, the dreadful cannonade, The din and shout are past: Nor war's wild note, nor glory's...
Page 16591 - When I lie tangled in her hair, And fettered to her eye ; The gods that wanton in the air, Know no such liberty. When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, Our careless heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames ; When thirsty grief in wine we steep, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes that tipple in the deep, Know no such liberty.
Page 16396 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Page 16624 - Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews.
Page 16513 - ... reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! — To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!
Page 16414 - How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew! The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell, The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
Page 16406 - WHILE thee I seek, protecting Power, Be my vain wishes stilled; And may this consecrated hour With better hopes be filled. 2 Thy love the power of thought bestowed; To thee my thoughts would soar: Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed; That mercy I adore.

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