Little Verses and Big Names

Capa
George H. Doran Company, 1915 - 305 páginas
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Página xi - Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
Página xi - When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee...
Página 180 - Children of men ! the unseen Power, whose eye For ever doth accompany mankind, Hath look'd on no religion scornfully That men did ever find. ' Which has not taught weak wills how much they can ? Which has not fall'n on the dry heart like rain ? Which has not cried to sunk, self-weary man : Thou must be born again...
Página 166 - A Wise Old Owl A wise old owl lived in an oak, The more he saw the less he spoke; The less he spoke the more he heard: Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?
Página 120 - THE proudest motto for the young! Write it in lines of gold Upon thy heart, and in thy mind The stirring words enfold. And in misfortune's dreary hour, Or fortune's prosperous gale, 'Twill have a holy, cheering power, "There's no such word as fail.
Página 260 - That the problem of gathering these price quotations is no simple task, but indeed one of the most difficult, as well as one of the most important...
Página 12 - THERE was a young man of Montrose Who had pockets in none of his clothes. When asked by his lass Where he carried his brass, He said: "Darling, I pay through the nose.
Página 236 - ... sun shines on the wheat, Once more I drink the wind like wine, When bursts the lark's song wildly sweet — From out the rain-wet, new-mown grass; I hear the sickle's clattering sweep — And peals of laughter lightly pass From lip to lip; again heap The odorous windrows rank by rank. Silent the tumult of the street From granite pavements...
Página 131 - THIS editorial is not written for women. It is written for men, and for boys; for the millions who fail to appreciate the work that mothers do, for the millions that ignore the self-sacrifice and devotion upon which society is based. On a hot night, in the dusty streets of a dirty city, you see hundreds of women sitting in the doorways, taking care of babies. In lonesome farm houses, far out on monotonous plains, with the late sun setting on a long day of hard work, you find women, cheerful and persevering,...
Página 200 - Passion,' he coughed out slowly amidst a general silence, ' is a great educator ; but its work only begins when it itself has left us. I have observed, and I think with truth, in one of my own romances, that a woman of the world should always have been, but should never be, in love. She should always have had a grief, but she should never have a grievance. She should always be the mistress of a sorrow, but never its servant. The happiness of society, as I have observed in another place, is based...

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