The Ohio Educational Monthly: A Journal of School and Home Education, Band 10

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F.W. Hurtt & Company, 1861
 

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Seite 186 - They cross the stream and are gone for aye. We may not sunder the veil apart That hides from our vision the gates of day...
Seite 183 - Such men, — men deserving the glorious title of teachers of mankind, I have found labouring conscientiously, though perhaps obscurely, in their blessed vocation, wherever I have gone. I have found them, and shared their fellowship, among the daring, the ambitious, the ardent, the indomitably active French; I have found them among the persevering, resolute, industrious Swiss; I have found them among the laborious, the warm-hearted, the enthusiastic Germans...
Seite 186 - Over the river the boatman pale Carried another, the household pet ; Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale — Darling Minnie ! I see her yet.
Seite 182 - The conqueror moves in a march. He stalks onward with the " pride, pomp, and circumstance of war ; " banners flying, shouts rending the air, guns thundering, and martial music pealing, to drown the shrieks of the wounded, and the lamentations for the slain. Not thus the schoolmaster in his peaceful vocation. He meditates and...
Seite 186 - And I sit and think when the sunset's gold Is flushing river and hill and shore, I shall one day stand by the water cold,And list for the sound of the boatman's oar ; I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand, I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale To the better shore of the spirit land. I shall know the loved who have gone before...
Seite 149 - As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night ! O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light...
Seite 186 - There's one with ringlets of sunny gold, And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue ; He crossed in the twilight gray and cold, And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. We saw not the angels who met him there; The gates of the city we could not see : Over the river, over the river, My brother stands waiting to welcome me...
Seite 149 - Oft has the poet's magic tongue The Rose's fair luxuriance sung ; And long the Muses, heavenly maids, Have rear'd it in their tuneful shades. When, at the early glance of morn. It sleeps upon the glittering thorn. 'Tis sweet to dare the tangled fence, To cull the timid...
Seite 182 - His is a progress not to be compared with anything like a march ; but it leads to a far more brilliant triumph, and to laurels more imperishable than the destroyer of his species, the scourge of the world, ever won.
Seite 149 - O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies : The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.

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