Reminiscences of Famous Georgians, Embracing Episodes and Incidents in the Lives of the Great Men of the State, Also and Appendix Devoted to Extracts from Speeches and Addresses ...

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Franklin-Turner Company, 1907
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585 psl. - The heroes' sepulchre. Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! Dear as the blood ye gave ; No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor shall your glory be forgot While Fame her record keeps, Or Honor points the hallowed spot Where Valor proudly sleeps.
130 psl. - Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil: the Lord reward him according to his works : 15 Of whom be thou ware also; for he hath greatly withstood our words.
701 psl. - Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main. The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn, And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, And the lordly main from beyond the plain Calls o'er the hills of Habersham, Calls through the valleys of Hall.
643 psl. - It was not by vile loitering in ease, That Greece obtain'd the brighter palm of art; That soft yet ardent Athens learn'd to please, To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart, In all supreme! complete in every part! It was not thence majestic Rome arose, And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart: For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows; Renown is not the child of indolent Repose.
646 psl. - Is there no balm in Gilead ; is there no physician there ? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered...
653 psl. - Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes...
534 psl. - There was news of the fight ; But none of Giffen. — He did not write. I sometimes fancy that, were I king Of the princely Knights of the Golden Ring, With the song of the minstrel in mine ear, And the tender legend that trembles here, I'd give the best on his bended knee, The whitest soul of my chivalry, For " Little Giffen,
701 psl. - Abide, abide! The willful waterweeds held me thrall, The laving laurel turned my tide, The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, The dewberry dipped for to work delay, And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide, Here in the hills of Habersham, Here in the valleys of Hall.
624 psl. - A land that wears a laurel crown may be fair to see, but twine a few sad cypress leaves around the brow of any land and, be that land...
534 psl. - The knightliest of the knightly race, That, since the days of old, Have kept the lamp of chivalry Alight in hearts of gold...

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