Anti-slavery Days: A Sketch of the Struggle which Ended in the Abolition of Slavery in the United States

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R. Worthington, 1883 - 224 páginas

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Página 69 - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's New Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand and the sheep upon the right; And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
Página 205 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all' are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame. The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
Página 204 - Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote: For him her Old- World moulds aside she threw, And choosing sweet clay from the breast Of the unexhausted West, With stuff untainted shaped a hero new, Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
Página 146 - A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat, and public care ; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic, though in ruin : sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air...
Página 35 - I am in earnest. I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch. AND I WILL BE HEARD.
Página 224 - Be proud ! for she is saved, and all have helped to save her! She that lifts up the manhood of the poor, She of the open soul and open door, With room about her hearth for all mankind...
Página 98 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
Página 139 - Scorn! would the angels laugh, to mark A bright soul driven, Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark. From hope and heaven! Let not the land once proud of him Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, Dishonored brow.
Página 167 - This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content though blind, had I no better guide.

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