Naya: A Story of the Bighorn Country

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Rand, McNally, 1910 - 326ÆäÀÌÁö

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322 ÆäÀÌÁö - Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky.
1 ÆäÀÌÁö - Away in Beauty's Bloom OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
266 ÆäÀÌÁö - Reigns that which would be fear'd : 'tis much he dares ; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety.
75 ÆäÀÌÁö - They waste us — ay — like April snow In the warm noon, we shrink away ; And fast they follow, as we go Toward the setting day — Till they shall fill the land, and we Are driven into the Western sea.
213 ÆäÀÌÁö - Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground ; Another race the following spring supplies, They fall successive, and successive rise: So generations in their course decay, So flourish these, when those are past away.
172 ÆäÀÌÁö - When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight...
324 ÆäÀÌÁö - Ye! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Farewell!
139 ÆäÀÌÁö - We ring the bells and we raise the strain. We hang up garlands everywhere And bid the tapers twinkle fair, And feast and frolic — and then we go Back to the same old lives again.
95 ÆäÀÌÁö - I thought at first the goblin-laugher stood at my bedside - or rather, crouched by my pillow: but I rose, looked round, and could see nothing; while, as I still gazed, the unnatural sound was reiterated: and I knew it came from behind the panels.
40 ÆäÀÌÁö - Which wanders through the waste air's pathless blue To nourish some far desert; she did seem Beside me, gathering beauty as she grew, Like the bright shade of some immortal dream, Which walks when tempest sleeps the wave of life's dark stream.

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