The Deserted Bride: And Other Poems

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Appleton, 1843 - 172 páginas

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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...
Página 47 - I NEVER have been false to thee ! The heart I gave thee still is thine ; Though thou hast been untrue to me, And I no more may call thee mine ! I've loved, as woman ever loves, With constant soul in good or ill...

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