The Social Choir: Designed for a Class Book, and the Social Circle... : the Music is Arranged as Solos, Duetts, Trios and Quartettes, with an Accompaniment for the Piano Forte

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George Kingsley
Crocker & Brewster, 1847 - 200 páginas

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Página 77 - tis done, all words are idle ; Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way, without the will. Fare thee well ! thus disunited, Torn from every nearer tie, Seared in heart and lone, and blighted — More than this, I scarce can die.
Página 57 - Though he win the wise, who frown'd before, To smile at last ; He'll never meet A joy so sweet, In all his noon of fame, As when first he sung to woman's ear His soul-felt flame, And, at every close, she blush'd to hear The one loved name.
Página 55 - twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle. To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die ! Now too — the joy most like divine Of all I ever dreamt or knew. To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine, — Oh, misery! must I lose that too? Yet go — on peril's brink we meet ; — Those frightful rocks — that treacherous sea — No, never come again — though sweet, Though heaven, it may be death to thee.
Página 32 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished! Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes. With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.
Página 77 - Those thou never more may'st see. Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest.
Página 91 - MY life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But, ere the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground — to die! Yet on the rose's humble bed The sweetest dews of night are shed, As if she wept the waste to see, — But none shall weep a tear for me! My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moon's pale ray; Its hold is frail...
Página 98 - YE sons of freedom, wake to glory! Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise! Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary, Behold their tears, and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding, With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding? To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th" avenging sword unsheath ; March on!
Página 63 - Thine is the power to give, Thine to deny, Joy for the hour I live — Calmness to die. By all the brave should cherish, By my dying breath, I ask that I may perish By a soldier's death ! DAWN.
Página 161 - Dwelt a maid, beloved and cherished, By high and low ; But with autumn's leaf she perished, Long time ago ! Rock and tree and flowing water, Long time ago ! Bee and bird and blossom taught her Love's spell to know ! While to my fond words she...
Página 91 - My life is like the summer rose, That opens to the morning sky ; And ere the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground — to die : Yet, on that rose's humble bed The softest dews of night are shed ; As if she wept such waste to see : But none shall drop a tear for me...

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