In the spring-time

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Remington & Company, 1877 - 251 pages
 

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Page 205 - We spake of many a vanished scene, Of what we once had thought and said, Of what had been and might have been, And who was changed and who was dead...
Page 52 - I could but mark ; The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark. Oft died the words upon our lips, As suddenly, from out the fire Built of the wreck of stranded ships, The flames would leap and then expire.
Page 163 - We are not worst at once— the course of evil Begins so slowly, and from such slight source, An infant's hand might stem its breach with clay; But let the stream get deeper. and philosophy — ' Ay, and religion too, — shall strive in vain To turn the headlong torrent.
Page 110 - While her image filled my soul. Farewell, days of purest pleasure, Long your loss my heart shall mourn! Farewell, hours of bliss the measure, Bliss that never can return. Cheerless o'er the wild heath wandering, Cheerless o'er the wave-worn shore, On the past with sadness pondering, Hope's fair visions charm no more.
Page 248 - Here, the great unrest of ages ; Here, the trouble, toil, and strife : There, the peaceful, quiet waters Of the crystal stream of life. Here, the sighing of the branches ; Here, the wave-beat on the shore : There, the ceaseless strain of angels Chanting praises evermore. Here, the rocks, and shoals, and quicksands ; Here, the white cross on the sod : There, the haven where she would be, In the bosom of her God.
Page 53 - Perhaps the novel was not quite so interesting as she had anticipated, for she soon felt very drowsy, and was just on the point of dropping off to sleep, when she became aware that some one was standing beside her, and on looking up saw it was the Count de Montfort. " How you frightened me," exclaimed Kate, just the least bit in the world cross that her slumbers should have been thus interrupted.
Page 19 - ... was loved and respected by all who knew him. He was...
Page 73 - I have something to tell you that I think will interest you. So listen quietly, and don't interrupt me.
Page 174 - Don't look so miserable," he pleaded. " Trust me, Kate. Do you know, when I look at your poor white face, when I think of all the misery I have caused you, — I wish to God I had never crossed your path." " What's done can't be undone," was the wearied answer, as she pushed back the masses of her dark hair.
Page 242 - Sing something to me, Helen ; it would be so nice in the twilight." And Helen sang to them, in her soft, sweet voice, that beautiful old song, " The Land of the Leal." Kate lay back listening entranced, thinking perchance of that fair land where there is no sorrow, and longing, oh so earnestly, for the time to come when she should pass to the land of the leal.

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