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arms asked Aunt Patty beautiful believe Bessy better Blanche bless bosom bound breath bright brother brow called cents cheek child Clarence close cloth cold Complete cover cried dark death deep Dollar dream dress Edmund Emma Estelle exclaimed expression eyes face fair father Father Angelo fear feel felt flowers Frank gaze girl give Grace grave hand happy head heard heart heaven Homer hope kind knew lady Laura leave light lips live looked Miss morning mother nature never night once pale passed passion poor Price remember replied rest rose round seemed seen Selwyn side sister smile soul speak spirit strange sure sweet tears tell thing thought told turned Victorine Vivian voice volume walk wish Worth young youth
Página 198 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Página 188 - The wind rose high, — but with it rose Her voice, that he might hear : Perchance that dark hour brought repose To happy bosoms near ; While she sat striving with despair Beside his tortured form, And pouring her deep soul in prayer Forth on the rushing storm.
Página 33 - Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths : but I say unto you, Swear not at all : neither by heaven ; for it is God's throne : nor by the earth ; for it is his footstool...
Página 310 - Two volumes, paper cover. Price One Dollar ; or bound in one volume, cloth, for $1.25.
Página 51 - And another angel came out of the temple* crying with a loud voice to him that sat on the cloud, Thrust in thy sickle, and reap : for the time is come for thee to reap; for the harvest of the earth is ripe. 16 And he that sat on the cloud thrust in his sickle on the earth ; and the earth was reaped.
Página 105 - I know thou descendest in mercy and love : All chill as thou art, yet benign is thy birth, As the dew that impearls the green bosom of Earth. And I've thought, as I've seen thy tremulous spray, Soft curling like mist, on the branches lay, In bright relief on the dark blue sky, That thou meltedst in grief when the sun came nigh.