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Ages angels arms bear beautiful bless breath child City Cleveland comes dark dead dear death deep door dream earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet flowers give glory gone grave grow hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hope John keep kind kiss knew land laugh leaves letter light lips live look Lord Mass mind Miss morning mother never night o'er Ohio once pain passed past play poem poor prayer rest Rock rose round seemed side sing sleep smile song sorrow soul speak stand stars story sure sweet tears tell Thee things thou thought true turn voice wait weary young
Page 45 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings — Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Page 71 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!
Page 139 - Liberty first and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, Liberty and Union, Now and Forever, One and Inseparable.
Page 177 - When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Page 10 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble, free. Thy name I love ; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills: My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Page 286 - 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 314 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise. In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Page 21 - We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this...
Page 9 - I'll raise; So by my woes to be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee. 3 There let the way appear Steps unto heaven; All that thou sendest me In mercy given; Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee.
Page 176 - tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life...