Caste: A Story of Republican Equality

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Phillips, Sampson, 1856 - African Americans - 540 pages
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Page 101 - The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contain'd no tomb, — And glowing into day...
Page 500 - Man may trouble and distress me, 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast ; Life with trials hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest! O, 'tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me ; O, 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Page 292 - Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine — A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast!
Page 445 - Ah me! for aught that ever I could read. Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Her.
Page 91 - There was a man in our town, and he was wondrous wise ; He jumped into a bramble bush, and scratched out both his eyes. And when he saw his eyes were out, with all his might and main, He jumped into another bush, and scratched them in again.
Page 466 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Page 239 - She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight...
Page 395 - There are some happy moments in this lone And desolate world of ours, that well repay The toil of struggling through it, and atone For many a long, sad night and weary day.
Page 146 - But ever and anon of griefs subdued There comes a token like a Scorpion's sting, Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued ; And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever...
Page 7 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet...

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