Life on a Backwoods Farm: Or, The Boyhood of Reuben Rodney Blannerhassett

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Jennings & Pye, 1894 - 258 páginas
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Página 237 - A worm ! a god ! I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home a stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast. And wondering at her own. How reason reels . O, what a miracle to man is man ! Triumphantly distressed!
Página 9 - Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs ; To the silent wilderness Where the soul need not repress Its music, lest it should not find An echo in another's mind, While the touch of Nature's art Harmonizes heart to heart.
Página 106 - For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse : could we make her as the man, Sweet love were slain : his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; The man be more of woman, she of man ; He gain in sweetness and in moral height, Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care...
Página 211 - Over wide and rushing rivers In his arms he bore the maiden ; Light he thought her as a feather, As the plume upon his head-gear; Cleared the tangled pathway for her, Bent aside the swaying branches, Made at night a lodge of branches, And a bed with boughs of hemlock, And a fire before the doorway With the dry cones of the pine-tree.
Página 211 - Pleasant was the journey homeward Through interminable forests, Over meadow, over mountain, Over river, hill, and hollow. Short it seemed to Hiawatha, Though they journeyed very slowly, Though his pace he checked and slackened To the steps of Laughing Water.
Página 67 - God abhorr'd, with violence rude to break The thread of life, ere half its length was run, And rob a wretched brother of his being. With joy Ambition saw, and soon improved The execrable deed.
Página 92 - My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer; A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go...
Página 86 - My name is Norval : on the Grampian hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home.
Página 130 - The heavens declare the glory of God : and the firmament sheweth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.
Página 67 - Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.

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