The Old School Boys of Boston: Organized 1880

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Association, 1903 - Boston (Mass.) - 283 pages

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Page 144 - They tell us, sir, that we are weak, — unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week — or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed; and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house?
Page 242 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Page 144 - Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand, and my heart, to this vote.
Page 148 - The days of our years are threescore years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
Page 253 - Before all people East or West, I love my countrymen the best; A race of noble spirit ; A sober mind, a generous heart, To virtue trained, yet free from art, They from their sires inherit.
Page 276 - 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.
Page 134 - Unnurtured Blount! thy brawling cease: He opes his eyes," said Eustace; "peace!" When, doffed his casque, he felt free air, Around 'gan Marmion wildly stare: — "Where's Harry Blount? Fitz-Eustace where? Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare! Redeem my pennon, — charge again! Cry — 'Marmion to the rescue!' — vain! Last of my race, on battle-plain That shout shall ne'er be heard again!
Page 186 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 186 - You'd scarce expect one of my age, To speak in public on the stage ; And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero, Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my imperfections by. Large streams from little fountains flow; Tall oaks from little acorns grow...
Page 72 - Should auld acquaintance be forgot. And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And days o' lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We'll take a cup o

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