The New-Orleans BookRobert Gibbes Barnwell 1851 - American literature - 384 pages |
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Results 1-5 of 19
Page 1
... fear and sorrow ; To fret thy soul with crosses and with care , To eat thy heart through comfortless despair ; To fawn , to crouch , to wait , to ride , to run , To spend , to give , to want , to be undone ; Unhappy wight ! such hard ...
... fear and sorrow ; To fret thy soul with crosses and with care , To eat thy heart through comfortless despair ; To fawn , to crouch , to wait , to ride , to run , To spend , to give , to want , to be undone ; Unhappy wight ! such hard ...
Page 10
... fear a less beneficial effect , when I can show that the free citizen of a free country has been deprived of his property by its first magistrate , without even the forms of law ? I do not fear it . However dull may be the discussion ...
... fear a less beneficial effect , when I can show that the free citizen of a free country has been deprived of his property by its first magistrate , without even the forms of law ? I do not fear it . However dull may be the discussion ...
Page 30
... fear ; And his pulse was all still in its curdle of blood , As the Giant's voice fell on his ear . " I've watched thee for years in thy bloody domain ; I've watched thee in murders all foul : And I've gathered together the souls of thy ...
... fear ; And his pulse was all still in its curdle of blood , As the Giant's voice fell on his ear . " I've watched thee for years in thy bloody domain ; I've watched thee in murders all foul : And I've gathered together the souls of thy ...
Page 46
... fears , Which march in solemn measure o'er the waste of future years . When memory flings her shadow pale across the silent stream Of thought at first a reverie , then deepening to a dream , We hear a sweet familiar voice in every wind ...
... fears , Which march in solemn measure o'er the waste of future years . When memory flings her shadow pale across the silent stream Of thought at first a reverie , then deepening to a dream , We hear a sweet familiar voice in every wind ...
Page 71
... fear . " Food for the dying - food ! " - that cry , Goes out upon the air , ' Tis heard at midnight in their glens , With agonizing prayer . Food for the tender children , who Stand shivering by the dead , With their pale hands stretch ...
... fear . " Food for the dying - food ! " - that cry , Goes out upon the air , ' Tis heard at midnight in their glens , With agonizing prayer . Food for the tender children , who Stand shivering by the dead , With their pale hands stretch ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient ATTICUS Aztecs beautiful bless blood breast breath Cadillac Cæsar called cause century Cicero Civil law clouds Code Code Napoleon Common law Corpus Juris Civilis Court Crozat dark deep dream earth existence faith father France Fuero gaze glorious glory glow hand happiness hath heart heaven honor hope human imagination justice land learned liberty light lives look Louisiana MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO ment mighty mind Mississippi Company moral nation native nature ness never New-Orleans night noble o'er object Pandects Partidas passions patriotism peace possessed Prentiss principles race religion remarkable repose RICHARD HENRY WILDE Roman ruins scenes shore smile Son of Temperance sorrow soul Spain Spanish laws spirit sweet tears thee thing thou thought thousand tion TITUS POMPONIUS ATTICUS Toltecs truth virtue waters wild
Popular passages
Page 62 - Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 227 - Alas, the lofty city! and alas, The trebly hundred triumphs! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away! Alas for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page! But these shall be Her resurrection; all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free!
Page 1 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To lose good days, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Page 164 - A few short hours, and he will rise To give the morrow birth; And I shall hail the main and skies, But not my mother earth. Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall, My dog howls at the gate. »Come hither, hither, my little page: Why dost thou weep and wail? Or dost thou dread the billows' rage, Or tremble at the gale? But dash the tear-drop from thine eye; Our ship is swift and strong: Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly More merrily along«.
Page 144 - When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came ; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame ; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear ; — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Page 228 - There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought.
Page 36 - Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree will mourn its shade, The winds bewail the leafless tree, — But none shall breathe a sigh for me ! My life is like the prints which feet Have left on Tampa's desert strand ; Soon as the rising tide shall beat, All trace will vanish from the sand ; Yet, as if grieving to efface All vestige of the human race, On that lone shore loud moans the sea, — But none, alas ! shall mourn for me ! TO THE MOCKING BIRD.
Page 67 - As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene ; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head...
Page 18 - I'd like to look at God." Ere long, Disease his hand had laid On that dear boy, so meek and mild : His widowed mother wept and prayed That God would spare her sightless child. He felt her warm tears on his face, And said, — " Oh ! never weep for me ; I'm going to a better place, Where God my Saviour I shall see.
Page 35 - MY life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But ere the shades of evening close Is scattered on the ground— to die. Yet on the rose's humble bed The sweetest dews of night are shed, As if she wept the waste to see, — But none shall weep a tear for me ! My life is like the autumn leaf, That trembles in the moon's pale ray; Its hold is frail, its date is brief; Restless, and soon to pass away...