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Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths..
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers. ___
No shoes to hide her tiny toes

Not in the swaying of the summer trees..
Not she with traitorous kiss her Savior stung-
Not that from life and all its woes..
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger

O a wonderful stream is the river Time
O brown lark, loving cloud-land best-
Oh! ask not, hope thou not too much
Oh! beautiful thou art

O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem

Oh! the old clock of the household stock ...

Old fashioned, yes, I know they are

One morning, when Spring was in her teens-

Only the actions of the just.--.

On thy fair bosom, silver lake

O soul of mine, look out and see.

Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd..

Our sweetest and most bitter hours are thine

Over hill, over dale.....

Over the river on the hill.

Over the river they beckon to me

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow

Precious and lovely, I yield her to thee

Reader, attend,—whether thy soul

Respect is what we owe; love what we give...

Ring on, ring on, sweet Sabbath bell.

Seated one day at the organ

See what a lovely shell

She walks in beauty, like the night..
Silence filled the courts of heaven..

Sing a low song!.

Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares..

Slowly the night is falling

Softly fell the touch of twilight on Judea's silent hills

So live, that, when thy summons comes to join

Some beauties yet no precepts can declare
"Sometime,” we say, and turn our eyes...
Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned-.

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South Mountain towered upon our right, far off the river lay-.243
Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou..
Such beautiful, beautiful hands..

The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold

The Beautiful City! Forever

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day

The drying up a single tear has more
The earth grows dark about me
The fairest action of our human life..
The fountains mingle with the river..
The harp at Nature's advent strung
The light was low in the school-room-
The Lord descended from above....
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat..
The old farm gate hangs sagging down
The rain had fallen, the Poet arose...

The splendor falls on castle walls..

The Spring is here-the delicate-footed May...

The surging era of human life forever onward rolls..

The touches of her hands are like the fall

The weary teacher sat alone

The world is full of glorious likenesses.
There are in this loud stunning tide.
There be none of beauty's daughters....
There comes a time or soon or late...
There is many a rest on the road of life...

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet
There's a beautiful face in the silent air..
There the most dainty paradise on ground.
These are the living pleasures of the bard.
They drive home the cows from the pasture-
This globe pourtray'd the race of learned men.
This is the month, and this the happy morn.
This motto I give to the young and the old..
Thou com'st in beauty, on my gaze at last.
Three Poets, in three distant ages born

Thy love, dear heart, till closed thy lengthened years
Thy voice is like the sea's voice when it makes....

"Till death us part"

"Tired!" Oh yes! so tired, dear..

Tis not in fate to harm me

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To him who, in the love of Nature, holds..
To you no soul shall bear deceit...
Too late I strayed, forgive the crime

Touch us gently, Time

Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again....

Twas the eve before Christmas; "Good night!" had been said.296
Two eyes I see whose sunny blue

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Two lovers by a moss-grown spring

Under the greenwood tree

Unhappy White, while life was in its spring.
Up and away, like the dew of the morning..

Upon the sadness of the sea...

Utterer of many thoughts which else were still

Vital spark of heavenly flame...............

We all have waking visions-I have mine

Weary hearts! weary hearts! by cares of life oppressed.
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths.
We scatter seeds with careless hand...

What babe new-born is this..

What is noble? 'Tis the finer

What makes the time run short?..

Whatsoe'er of beauty---

What was he doing, the great god Pan

What would I have you do? I'll tell you, kinsman ...

When I consider how my light is spent

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When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

Where the bee sucks, there lurk I..

Where the rocks are gray and the shore is steep.

"Which shall it be, which shall it be?".

Who has robbed the ocean cave---

Who will care?..

Wing'd mimic of the woods! thou motley fool.
Within the flower-lined casket she was laid...
Within the sun-flecked shadows of a forest glade..........

"Woman!" With that word

Word was brought to the Danish king

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When the humid shadows hover over all the starry spheres----304
When the mists have rolled in splendor

When the song's gone out of your life

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Wouldst thou from sorrow find a sweet relief...

"You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart who stood... 18 You placed this flower in her hand, you say. You remember the time when I first sought your home...

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Our Rover.

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GOOD NEWS FOR THE
FOR THE DEAF.

An Instrument that Enables Deaf Persons to Hear Ordinary Con
versation Readily Through the Medium of the Teeth, and
those Born Deaf and Dumb to Hear and Learn
to Speak. How it is Done, Etc.

The Audiphone is a new instrument made of a peculiar composition, possessing the property of gathering the faintest sounds (somewhat similar to a telephone diaphragm), and conveying them to the auditory nerve, through the medium of the teeth. The external ear has nothing whatever to do in hearing with this wonderful instrument.

It is made in the shape of a fan, and can be used as such, if desired.

When adjusted for hearing, it is in suitable tension and the upper edge is pressed slightly against one or more of the upper teeth.

Ordinary conversation can be heard with ease. In most cases deafness is not detected, it being generally supposed, as is the experience of the inventor, that th party deaf, is simply amusing himself with the fan.

The instrument also greatly facilitates conversation by softening the voice of the person using it, enabling--even in cases of mutes--the deaf party to hear his own words distinctly.

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