Songs

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Bradbury and Evans, 1855 - Songs, English - 108 pages

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Page 8 - A nameless man amid a crowd that thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, unstudied, from the heart; A whisper on the tumult thrown, — a transitory breath, — It raised a brother from the dust; it saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast! Ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last.
Page 25 - For him the axe be bared ; For him the gibbet shall be built ; For him the stake prepared : Him shall the scorn and wrath of men Pursue with deadly aim ; And malice, envy, spite, and lies, Shall desecrate his name. But truth shall conquer at the last, For round and round we run, And ever the right comes uppermost, And ever is justice done.
Page 90 - To the West, to the West, to the land of the free, Where the mighty Missouri rolls down to the sea; Where a man is a man if he's willing to toil, And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil; Where children are blessings, and he who hath most Has aid for his fortune and riches to boast.
Page 7 - A little spring had lost its way amid the grass and fern, A passing stranger scooped a well, where weary men might turn; He walled it in, and hung with care a ladle at the brink; He thought not of the deed he did, but judged that toil might drink.
Page 26 - Plod in thy cave, gray anchorite; Be wiser than thy peers; Augment the range of human power, And trust to coming years. They may call thee wizard, and monk accursed, And load thee with dispraise; Thou wert born five hundred years too soon For the comfort of thy days; But not too soon for human kind. Time hath reward in store; And the demons of our sires become The saints that we adore.
Page 29 - Why should we see with dead men's eyes, Looking at WAS from morn to night, When the beauteous Now, the divine To BE, Woo with their charms our living sight ? Why should we hear but echoes dull, When the world of sound, so beautiful, Will give us music of our own...
Page 70 - The ancient virtue is not dead, And long may it endure! May wealth in England . . . (and I am sure he means by wealth the higher sense of it— prosperity alone, but healthful and sound prosperity) — May wealth in England never fail, Nor pity for the poor.
Page 82 - He scowled and frowned ; he shook the ground : I trembled through and through ; At length I looked him in the face And cried, " Who cares for you ? " The mighty Giant, as I spoke, Grew pale and thin and small, And through his body, as 'twere smoke, I saw the sunshine fall. His blood-red eyes turned blue as skies, He whispered soft and low.
Page 25 - And ever the right comes uppermost, And ever is justice done. Pace through thy cell, old Socrates, Cheerily to and fro ; Trust to the impulse of thy soul And let the poison flow. They may shatter to earth the lamp of clay That holds...

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