Naomi: Or, Boston, Two Hundred Years AgoW. Crosby & H.P. Nichols, 1848 - 448 pages |
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Aldersey Aldersey's ancholy banished Beacon Hill beauty beneath blessed boat Boston breath Brookline cabin called calm cassock child church color comfort Connecticut River countenance dark daughter dawn deep door dress elders Eliot England excited expression eyes Faith father feel felt ford rivers forest George Fox hand heart Herbert Herbert Walton heresy hope horse hour humble Indian John Norton journey ladies light live looked Margaret Mary Dyer mind ministers morning mother Naomi nature ness never night Norton nurslings pale party passed path pillion poor prayer prison Puritan Quakers roof Roxbury Ruth Sabber Sambo scarcely scene seemed shadow sheltered side silent sleep snow solitude soon soul spirit spot step-father stern stood streets tears tender thought tion trees truth turned voice ward air Watertown whole wigwam wild Wilson wind window witch women woods young youth
Popular passages
Page 248 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Page 208 - Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamelled stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; And so by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Page 87 - Alas ! for them — their day is o'er. Their fires are out from hill and shore; No more for them the wild deer bounds, The plough is on their hunting grounds; The pale man's axe rings through their woods, The pale man's sail skims o'er their floods, Their pleasant springs are dry ; Their children — look, by power oppressed, Beyond the mountains of the west, Their children go -— to die.
Page 100 - But the doomed Indian leaves behind no trace, To save his own, or serve another race ; With his frail breath his power has passed away, His deeds, his thoughts are buried with his clay ; Nor lofty pile, nor glowing page Shall link him to a future age, Or give him with the past a rank : His heraldry is but a broken bow, His history but a tale of wrong and woe, His very name must be a blank.
Page 299 - Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.
Page 60 - The sceptre's might, the crosier's pride, Ye do not fear ; No conquest blade, in life-blood dyed, Drops terror here — Let there not lurk a subtler snare, For wisdom's footsteps to beware ; The shackle and the stake...
Page 59 - XXVI. Take then my prayer, Ye dwellers of this spot — Be yours a noiseless and a guiltless lot. I plead not that ye bask In the rank beams of vulgar fame ; To light your steps I ask A purer and a holier flame. No bloated growth I supplicate for you, No pining multitude, no pampered few ; 'Tis not alone to coffer gold, Nor spreading borders to behold...