The World's Great Masterpieces: History, Biography, Science, Philosophy, Poetry, the Drama, Travel, Adventure, Fiction, Etc, Volume 16

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American Literary Society, 1901 - Literature

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Page 8618 - With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
Page 8697 - While life's dark maze I tread, And griefs around me spread, Be Thou my guide ; Bid darkness turn to day, Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From Thee aside.
Page 8479 - Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought ; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Page 8468 - Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on; The night is dark and I am far from home; Lead thou me on; Keep thou my feet ; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.
Page 8514 - Who, if he rise to station of command, Rises by open means; and there will stand On honourable terms, or else retire, And in himself possess his own desire: Who comprehends his trust, and to the same, Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim...
Page 8614 - Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend: Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and —sans End!
Page 8474 - This most beautiful system of the sun, planets, and comets could only proceed from the counsel and dominion of an intelligent and powerful Being.
Page 8505 - A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him while his life-blood ebbed away, And bent with pitying glances to hear what he might say.
Page 8613 - They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep: And Bahram, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.
Page 8554 - The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On Fame's eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead.

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