The Washington Centennial Souvenir

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T. Whittaker, 1889 - Presidents - 41 pages
 

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Page 25 - Where may the wearied eye repose When gazing on the great; Where neither guilty glory glows, Nor despicable state ? Yes — one — the first — the last — the best— The Cincinnatus of the West, Whom envy dared not hate, Bequeathed the name of Washington, To make man blush there was but One !
Page 27 - midst the roar Of cataracts, where nursing Nature smiled On infant Washington ? Has Earth no more Such seeds within her breast, or Europe no such shore ? XCVII.
Page 37 - I find I am going. My breath cannot last long. I believed from the first that the disorder would prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all my late military letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than any one else, and let Mr. Rawlins finish recording my other letters which he has begun.
Page 29 - Bacon, or Locke ; and as far as he saw, no judgment was ever sounder. It was slow in operation, being little aided by invention or imagination, but sure in conclusion.
Page 30 - Caesar, great and brave, but stain was on his wreath ; He lived the heartless conqueror, and died the tyrant's death. France had its eagle, but his wings, though lofty they might soar, Were spread in false ambition's flight, and dipped in murder's gore. Those hero-gods, whose mighty sway would fain have chained...
Page 29 - Tis stamped upon the dullest brain, and warms the coldest heart ; A war-cry fit for any land where freedom's to be won. Land of the west ! it stands alone — it is thy Washington...
Page 30 - To change them for a regal vest and don a kingly crown. Fame was too earnest in her joy, too proud of such a son, To let a robe and title mask her noble Washington. England, my heart is truly thine, my loved, my native earth, — The land that holds a mother's grave and gave that mother birth ! Oh, keenly sad would be the fate that thrust me from thy shore And faltering my breath that sighed, " Farewell for evermore ! " But did I meet such adverse lot, I would not seek to dwell Where olden heroes...
Page 38 - I am just going. Have me decently buried; and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three days after I am dead.
Page 38 - I die hard, but I am not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not survive it — my breath cannot last long.
Page 35 - In the afternoon the weather cleared up, and he went out on the grounds between the house and the river, to mark some trees which were to be cut down. A hoarseness which had hung about him through the day grew worse towards night, but he made light of it.

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