Our eyes are far-visioned for star-gazing, while her eyes see no farther than the solid earth beneath her feet, the lover's breast upon her breast, the infant lusty in the hollow of her arm.
Soon the wilderness ambassador of empire, Celoron de Bienville, was despatched by the far-visioned Galissoniere at Quebec to sow broadcast with ceremonial pomp in the heart of America the seeds of empire, grandiosely graven plates of lasting lead, in defiant yet futile symbol of the asserted sovereignty of France.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, surveying her rather ruefully. "We're a pretty fair example of beauty and the beast, aren't we?" Nan looked back at him composedly at the strong, ugly face and far-visioned eyes. "Not in the least," she replied judicially. "We're different, that's all. And" smiling faintly "you're rather grubby just at present." "I suppose I am."
The alteration in his voice as he addressed Nan was quite perceptible to anyone well-versed in the symptoms of the state of being in love, and his piercing light-grey eyes beneath their shaggy, sunburnt brows fierce, far-visioned eyes that reminded one of the eyes of a hawk softened amazingly as they rested upon her charming face. "Oh, we're quite all right, thanks," she answered.
A press report of the convention said: "Henry B. Blackwell, although 84 years of age, is a commanding figure and his voice as it rings forth in tones of conviction is more like that of a man in his prime than of one who has passed his four-score milestone." It therefore was a great shock when the news came on September 7 that this far-visioned leader had passed from earth.
Greatly welcome, much impressed by remarkable feat of initial victory collectively achieved by self-sacrificing efforts of invincible, far-visioned, forward-marching American Bahá’í Community.
And sacred, too, to the memory of the one far-visioned woman, Fannie Geiger Thompson, who first conceived the thought of marking for the coming generations the course of commerce that built up the West in years gone by. We never lived in Burlingame, where once a heart-hungry little boy I longed to have a home.
Both had been far-visioned. Both had foreseen the transformation of the utter West, the coming of the railroad, and the building of the new empire on the Pacific shore. Frederick Travers thrilled, too, at the locomotive whistle, because, more than any man's, it was his railroad.