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Page 76 - Not a whit, we defy augury. There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come; the readiness is all. Since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Page 88 - ... should die to-night And you should come to my cold corpse and say, Weeping and heartsick o'er my lifeless clay — If I should die to-night, And you should come in deepest grief and woe — And say : " Here's that ten dollars that I owe," I might arise in my large white cravat And say, "What's that?
Page 12 - Near the city of Sevilla. ^ Years and years ago— Dwelt a lady in a villa, Years and years ago ;—'" And her hair was black as night, And her eyes were starry bright; Olives on her brow were blooming, Roses red her lips perfuming, And her step was light and airy As the tripping of a fairy ; When she spoke, you thought, each minute, 'Twas the thrilling of a linnet; When she sang, you heard a gush Of full-voiced sweetness like a thrush ; And she struck from the guitar Ringing music, sweeter far Than...
Page 89 - If I should die to-night And you should come to my cold corpse and kneel, Clasping my bier to show the grief you feel, I say, if I should die to-night And you should come to me, and there and then Just even hint 'bout paying me that ten, I might arise the while, But I'd drop dead again.
Page 13 - ... murmuring o'er Pebbles on the foamy shore. Orphaned both of sire and mother Dwelt she in that lonely villa, Absent now her guardian brother On a mission from Sevilla. Skills it little now the telling How I wooed that maiden fair, Tracked her to her lonely dwelling And obtained an entrance there. Ah ! that lady of the villa— And I loved her so, Near the city of Sevilla, Years and years ago.
Page 134 - Oh promise me, that some day you and I Will take our love together to some sky Where we can be alone and faith renew, And find the hollows where those flowers grew...
Page 103 - An' share vit you in fellowship, An' pay you on deman'. You're built upon a ver' large plan, Overe seex feet you rise: You need it all to shelter in Your heart dat's double size. You are too broad for narrow t'ings, You gr'ad for any creed; I'll eat de roas', but drink de toas', To ma frien', Opie Read.
Page 186 - Van Buren street, the object being to furnish a weekly meeting place for the discussion of art and literature and where distinguished artists might meet our home artists whenever occasion brought them to Chicago. It was named after a ghost story written by Mrs. Madeline Yale Wynne called "The Little Room" which had a fashion of disappearing and reappearing at intervals.