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appearance arms asked battle bees birds brave breath bring called clouds coming dead death earth expression eyes face falling father feet fire flowers followed force gave give given hand happy head hear heart hold horse hour keep kind king land laws lead leaves lesson light lion live looked meaning meant morning mountains nature never night once passed pause poetry Poor Poor Richard replied rest returned rich ring rising round seemed shadows short side sleep soldiers soon sound speaking steps stood strange street syllables tell thee things thou thought thousand took tree true turned voice walk whole wild wind wood young
Seite xxviii - Strike — till the last armed foe expires; Strike — for your altars and your fires; Strike — for the green graves of your sires, God — and your native land!
Seite 384 - Men! with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once, with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
Seite 250 - You call them goods ; but, if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may for less than they cost ; but, if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Richard says : Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.
Seite 352 - With powers as far above dull brutes endued, In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude; Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long-aimed blow, And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain : These constitute a State, And sovereign Law, that State's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill...
Seite 387 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; ,Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar. In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee...
Seite 327 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft ; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Seite 247 - If Time be of all Things the most precious, wasting Time must be, as Poor Richard says, the greatest Prodigality; since, as he elsewhere tells us, Lost Time is never found again; and what we call Time enough, always proves little enough...
Seite 277 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.