ain't baby black regiment blue boys breath bride child cloud corner cried curtain danced dead dear earth Exit eyes face fair Faith fall father fear flowers glad gold Good-morning Goody Two Shoes gray grumbled gypsies go Halifax bay hand happy head hear heard heart hope Huldah I'm a woman Judgment Day kissed Land of Nod laugh Little Bo-Peep lived look Lovell MARGARET JOHNSON Mistletoe bough mother never Nicholas Nickleby Nick Nickleby night o'er Phrixos play pray round Santa Claus comes shadows shine Sing hey sleep Smike smiled snow song soul Squeers Star Story Land sweet tears tell there's things THOMAS FROST Thou thought tin cup to-day tree Twas Wackford Waiting the Judgment weary weeping whispered wife wind Women young Zekle
PÓgina 200 - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat : Oh ! be swift, my soul, to answer Him ! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
PÓgina 142 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate.
PÓgina 141 - All is finished ! and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, Slowly, in all his splendors dight, The great sun rises to behold the sight.
PÓgina 212 - An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The ole queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young Fetched back from Concord busted. The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin', An' she looked full ez rosy agin Ez the apples she was peelin'.
PÓgina 112 - BY the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead ; — Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day ; — Under the one, the Blue ; Under the other, the Gray.
PÓgina 113 - From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the roses, the Blue; Under the lilies, the Gray.
PÓgina 163 - A fair little girl sat under a tree, Sewing as long as her eyes could see, Then smoothed her work, and folded it right, And said, "Dear work, good night, good night!
PÓgina 188 - Israel, which are borne by me from the belly, which are carried from the womb; 'and even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.
PÓgina 142 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; ,Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar. In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee...