HISTORY OF BAY COUNTY, MICHIGAN AND REPRESENTATIVE CITIZENS

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Página 27 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Página 261 - Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen ; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean. Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base ; And ascending and secure Shall to-morrow find its place.
Página 55 - I hear the tread of pioneers Of nations yet to be ; The first low wash of waves, where soon Shall roll a human sea.
Página 215 - PLEASANT it was, when woods were green And winds were soft and low, " ' To lie amid some sylvan scene, Where, the long drooping boughs between, Shadows dark and sunlight sheen Alternate come and go...
Página 161 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Página 233 - THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, And on its outer point, some miles away, The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremor of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo ! how bright, Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth...
Página 27 - This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
Página 168 - PHILIP OF POKANOKET. AN INDIAN MEMOIR. As monumental bronze unchanged his look : A soul that pity touch'd, bnt never shook: Train'd from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — • A stoic of the yvoods — a man without a tear.
Página 359 - Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living present! Heart within, and GOD o'erhead!
Página 60 - Before these fields were shorn and tilled, Full to the brim our rivers flowed ; The melody of waters filled The fresh and boundless wood ; And torrents dashed and rivulets played, And fountains spouted in the shade.

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