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beam beauty bell beloved bird bless bosom bower boys breathes breeze bride bright brow cheer dear dearest deep earth eyes face fade fair fall fate feel flower flowing forget gentle girl give glory glow grave green grief grove hand happy Hast head heart heaven hills hope hour Indians Italy king knew lady laid land leaves light live Long look Love's lover maid memory mind miss moon morning mountain native ne'er never night o'er O’er once poor pride proved Queen Reason rest Rhyme roam round scene shade side sight silent sisters smiles Smith song soul spare speak spirit spread stand star stream sure tears thee thine thing thou thought tree true turn waves Wealth wings woman wood
Página 39 - WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE! , spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now.
Página 43 - Ah ! well do I remember those Whose names these records bear Who round the hearth-stone used to close After the evening prayer, And speak of what these pages said, In tones my heart would thrill ! Though they are with the silent dead, Here are they living still ! My father read this holy book To brothers, sisters dear...
Página 168 - After a moment's pause, he added: " Don't think me foolish. I don't know how it is: I never ride out but I turn down this lane to look at that old tree. I have a thousand recollections about it, and I always greet it as a familiar and well-remembered friend.
Página 43 - I've tried ; Where all were false I found thee true, My counsellor and guide. The mines of earth no treasures give That could this volume buy : In teaching me the way to live, It taught me how to die.
Página 40 - When but an idle boy, I sought its 'grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here too my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand, — Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand!
Página 168 - Riding out of town a few days since, in company with a friend, an old gentleman, he invited me to turn down a little, romantic woodland pass, not far from Bloomingdale. " Your object?" inquired I. " Merely to look once more at an old tree planted by my grandfather long before I was born, under which I used to play when a boy, and where my sisters played with me.
Página 15 - Yet do not think I doubt thee, I know thy truth remains. I would not live without thee, For all the world contains. Thou art the star that guides me Along life's troubled sea ; And whatever fate betides me, This heart still turns to thee.
Página 42 - This book is all that's left me now, — Tears will unbidden start, — With faltering lip and throbbing brow I press it to my heart. For many generations past Here is our family tree; My mother's hands this Bible clasped, She, dying, gave it me.
Página 39 - Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea — And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties ; Oh, spare that aged oak Now towering to the skies ! When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand...