Pleasant pages (by S.P. Newcombe). [With suppl., entitled] Fireside facts from the Great exhibition, Volume 4

Front Cover

From inside the book

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 105 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Page 176 - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! "Try not the pass!
Page 105 - The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 176 - Pass!' the old man said; ,Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide!' And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! ,O stay,' the maiden said, ,and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!
Page 108 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Page 108 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
Page 176 - At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior ! POEMS ON SLAVERY.
Page 126 - I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty; I woke, and found that life was duty. Was thy dream then a shadowy lie? Toil on, sad heart, courageously, And thou shalt find thy dream to be A noonday light and truth to thee...
Page 295 - Not there, not there my child! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy, Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom; For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb It is there, it is there my child!
Page 73 - Pause not to dream of the future before us ; Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us : Hark how Creation's deep, musical chorus, Unintermitting, goes up into Heaven ! Never the ocean- wave falters in flowing; Never the little seed stops in its growing; More and more richly the Rose-heart keeps glowing, Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. 1 Labor is worship !' the robin is singing,

Bibliographic information