What Can a Woman Do: Or, Her Position in the Business and Literary World

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F.B. Dickerson, 1885 - American literature - 528 pages

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Page 311 - 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.
Page 312 - BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight — Make me a child again just for to-night. Mother, come back from the echoless shore; Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep — Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.
Page 375 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is For gift or grace surpassing this, — " He giveth His beloved sleep " ? What would we give to our beloved?
Page 522 - Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; and happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Page 372 - Then some looked uppe into the sky, And all along where Lindis flows To where the goodly vessels lie, And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde, "And why should this thing be? What danger lowers by land or sea? They ring the tune of Enderby!
Page 384 - Life ! we've been long together, Through pleasant and through cloudy weather ; 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear : — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time ; Say not ' Good night ' — but in some brighter clime Bid me
Page 371 - Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, 'For the dews will soone be falling; Leave your meadow grasses mellow Mellow, mellow, Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Quit the stalks of parsley hollow, Hollow, hollow; Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, From the clovers lift your head; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, Jetty, to the milking shed.
Page 373 - With that he cried and beat his breast; For, lo ! along the river's bed A mighty eygre reared his crest, And uppe the Lindis raging sped. It swept with thunderous noises loud; Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud, Or like a demon in a shroud. And rearing Lindis backward pressed Shook all her trembling bankes amaine ; Then madly at the eygre's breast Flung uppe her weltering walls again.
Page 344 - ... saw them coming one by one, — Brindle, Ebony, Speckle, and Bess, Shaking their horns in the evening wind ; Cropping the buttercups out of the grass, — But who was it following close behind ? Loosely swung in the idle air The empty sleeve of army blue ; And worn and pale, from the crisping hair, Looked out a face that the father knew. For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn, And yield their dead unto life again ; And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn In golden glory at last may wane.
Page 312 - Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears — Toil without recompense, tears all in vain — Take them and give me my childhood again...

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