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What hard heart can refuse its compassion to personages abused by a dream, and that dream the dream of a History! Oh, wonderful poet, thou shalt be immortal, if my eulogiums can make thee so! "Already, pierc'd by freedom's searching rays, The waxen fabric of his fame decays!" This author cannot certainly be compared with Mr. Hayley. We know not by what fatality Dr.
And Marjie, holding the letter in her hand thrust deep in her cloak pocket, felt strength and hope and courage pulsing in her veins, and a peace that she had not known for many days came with its blessing to her troubled soul. We go to rear a wall of men on Freedom's Southern line, And plant beside the cotton-tree the rugged Northern pine!
On Phocis' shores the cavern's gloom Imbrowns yon solitary tomb: There, in the sad and silent grave Repose the ashes of the brave Who, when the Persian from afar On Hellas poured the stream of war, At Freedom's call, with martial pride, For his loved country fought and died. Seek'st thou the place where, 'midst the dead The hero of the battle bled?
"As you will, as you will, dear our King," cried Vebba, as spokesman for the soldiers. "Fear us not life and death, we are yours." "Life and death yours, and freedom's," cried the Kent men. Coming now towards the royal tent beside the standard, the discipline was more perfect, and the hush decorous.
Everybody will say you could have had me." "We'll not discuss the subject if you please." Nevertheless Alice knew that she had dropped a seed on good ground. Now poor Tom Dunstan's cold, Our shop is duller; Scarce a tale is told, And our talk has lost the old Red-republican color! 'She's coming, she's coming! said he; 'Courage, boys I wait and see! 'FREEDOM'S AHEAD! Robert Buchanan.
I venture to put these questions to you because I think that the dangerous class in this community is to be found among persons who, without intelligence, create animosity, and by their method of preaching tend to retard rather than to promote the progress of the poor and ignorant in this country. Very sincerely yours, * "Freedom's secret wilt thou know?
Coleridge's imagination may be estimated by the following lines, in his Monody on Chatterton. "O, Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive; Sure thou would'st spread the canvass to the gale, And love with us the tinkling team to drive O'er peaceful freedom's UNDIVIDED dale; And we at sober eve would round thee throng, Hanging enraptured on thy stately song!
They raised the old war-cry of liberty over battle-fields long silent; they extolled to heaven the renown of the rebellious dead; their very periods glowed with Garibaldian red, white, and green; and rising to Byronic exaltation they concluded their nationalist effusions by adjuring freedom's weather-beaten flag: "Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind!"
You are our living link with the past. Tell your grandchildren the story of struggles waged at home and abroad, of sacrifices freely made for freedom's sake. And tell them your own story as well, because every American has a story to tell. And parents, your children look to you for direction and guidance. Tell them of faith and family. Tell them we are one nation under God.
But I should like to reinstate the MASTER. And not for HIS sake alone, but for freedom's sake and OURS. To be plain: since I have taken up this matter for the company, I have satisfied myself from personal observation that the negro even more than his master cannot handle his new condition.
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