The Far West, Or, A Tour Beyond the Mountains: Embracing Outlines of Western Life and Scenery ; Sketches of the Prairies, Rivers, Ancient Mounds, Early Settlements of the French, Etc, Band 2

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Harper & Bros., 1838
 

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Seite 117 - Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the Poet stood ; Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air And, with a Master's hand, and Prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.
Seite 237 - Shall and Will Warrant and forever Defend by these presents. IN WITNESS WHEREOF the said parties to these presents have interchangeably set their hands and seals the day and year first above written.
Seite 124 - STRANGER, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature.
Seite 122 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
Seite 237 - To have and to hold the said Land and all and singular other the premises above mentioned and every...
Seite 235 - July in the year of our LORD CHRIST, One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Sixty one and in the First year of our Reign.
Seite 229 - Ye ! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Farewell ! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain.
Seite 28 - Ah ! that such beauty, varying in the light Of living nature, cannot be portrayed By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill ; But is the property of him alone Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, And in his mind recorded it with love...
Seite 78 - Pleasant the wind's low sigh, And the gleaming of the west, And the turf whereon we lie ; When the burden and the heat Of labour's task are o'er, And kindly voices greet The tired one at his door. Come to the sunset tree ! The day is past and gone ; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
Seite 180 - I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls: and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place, by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook there its lonely head: the moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waved round...

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