St. Louis Nights Wi' Burns

Predný obal
Kutterer-Jansen printing Company, 1913 - 95 strán (strany)

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Strana 17 - tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Strana 28 - Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs himself life's mad career, Wild as the wave ; Here pause— and, through the starting tear, Survey this grave.
Strana 90 - But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben ! O wad ye tak a thought an' men' ! Ye aiblins might — I dinna ken — Still hae a stake : I'm wae to think upo...
Strana 54 - This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Strana 15 - Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Strana 25 - Thou whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these counsels on thy soul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night, — in darkness lost: Hope not sunshine ev'ry hour, Fear not clouds will always lour.
Strana 68 - THAT AND A' THAT" Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that! The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Strana 13 - mid renewing storms ; Is it departing pangs my soul alarms? Or Death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode? For guilt, for GUILT, my terrors are in arms; I tremble to approach an angry God, And justly smart beneath His sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say,
Strana 26 - When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded ; Or if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded ; But when on life we're tempest-driven, A conscience but a canker — A correspondence fix'd wi...
Strana 50 - Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire; Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire At pleugh or cart, My Muse, though hamely in attire, May touch the heart.

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