Ships by Day: A Novel

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J. H. Earle, 1896 - 445 pages
 

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Page 96 - Heaven is not reached at a single bound, But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
Page 205 - Ruby wine is drunk by knaves, Sugar spends to fatten slaves, Rose and vine-leaf deck buffoons; Thunder-clouds are Jove's festoons, Drooping oft in wreaths of dread, Lightning-knotted round his head; The hero is not fed on sweets, Daily his own heart he eats; Chambers of the great are jails, And head-winds right for royal sails.
Page 287 - There was such goodness, such pure nature seen In Lucy's looks, a manner so serene ; Such harmony in motion, speech, and air, That without fairness she was more than fair...
Page 167 - I love God," and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen?
Page 188 - With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see! she stirs! She starts,— she moves,— she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms!
Page 230 - From the billowy green beneath me To the fathomless blue above, The creatures of God are happy In the warmth of their summer love. The infinite bliss of Nature I feel in every vein ; The light and the life of Summer Blossom in heart and brain.
Page 246 - and we shall look forward to your coming with a great deal of satisfaction...
Page 274 - blessed are they who have not seen and yet have believed.
Page 20 - And whether now the waters were less deep, Or I was borne upon invisible arms, I know not ; but methought my mortal robes Now only brush'd the smoothly gliding stream, And like the edges of a sunset cloud The beatific land before me lay. One long last look behind me : gradually The figures faded on the shore of time ; And, as the passing-bell of midnight struck, One sob, one effort, and my spirit was free.

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