-
Articles/Ads
Article Untitled Article ← Page 4 of 4 Article WHAT IS FREE! Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Untitled Article
started , at railWay-speed , down a sewer-like passage , in momentary expectation , indeed , of becoming as helpless victims to the grinding process as the salt by which we were surrounded . In the distance , at length appeared a star-like glimmering , which enlarged upon our
view until we found ourselves wrapped in its dazzling brightness . It was but the fair sky which thus peered with its blue eye into the dark cavern from which we had now emerged . There was Kutcher —it was droll to see how sarcastically he eyed us in our eccentric dress , now so besmeared with party-coloured dirt that , truly , his worst predictions for us seemed to have been amply fulfilled .
Having reassutned our ordinary costume , which we found awaiting us , we started for Halein , now but a short distance , as we emerged from the base of the mountain at whose summit we had entered the salt mines .
What Is Free!
WHAT IS FEEeI
Chains are on earth ' s old form , some fetter elingeth Around the treasured , loveliest , and best ; The busy bee while still his course he wingeth , Murm ' reth of busy slav ' ry , not of rest : Summer , his blushing but imperious sovereign , Calleth her slave from empty hive to come , And yet while over fading blossom hovering , Bids him in haste reseek his winter home . Such are not free !
I watched the flowrets in the sunbeams bending , Each silver leaf seemed kissed by purest light , I heard the monarch Wind his mandate sending , That all should bow their head beneath his might : They slept , for eve had laid her dusky finger On each fair brow and tear-bedewed eye , Wept not the flowers because they might not linger , To bid good night to stars in midnight sky . These are not free !
I watched the grey eve go forth on her wandering , With God ' s own seal to close all nature ' s store , Her fevered lips moved in their mystic pondering , While pausing on old hoary ocean ' s shore ;; Fain would her weary heated footsteps falter , Amid the cool hush which around is spread , But night has come to raise her ruined altar , And sacrifice ere daylight rears her head . These are not free !
Free ! naught is free but that old deep affection , Which makes on well-fixed Memory her rooat , Bidding sometimes each treasured recollection , From the strong chain which binds it be unloosed ; The clinging love which in life ' s wintry weather , Goes forth to search for mem ' ry ' s gems of yore , With trembling but unfettered hands to gather The relics of what was , but is no more . This , this is free ! Emilie M .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Untitled Article
started , at railWay-speed , down a sewer-like passage , in momentary expectation , indeed , of becoming as helpless victims to the grinding process as the salt by which we were surrounded . In the distance , at length appeared a star-like glimmering , which enlarged upon our
view until we found ourselves wrapped in its dazzling brightness . It was but the fair sky which thus peered with its blue eye into the dark cavern from which we had now emerged . There was Kutcher —it was droll to see how sarcastically he eyed us in our eccentric dress , now so besmeared with party-coloured dirt that , truly , his worst predictions for us seemed to have been amply fulfilled .
Having reassutned our ordinary costume , which we found awaiting us , we started for Halein , now but a short distance , as we emerged from the base of the mountain at whose summit we had entered the salt mines .
What Is Free!
WHAT IS FEEeI
Chains are on earth ' s old form , some fetter elingeth Around the treasured , loveliest , and best ; The busy bee while still his course he wingeth , Murm ' reth of busy slav ' ry , not of rest : Summer , his blushing but imperious sovereign , Calleth her slave from empty hive to come , And yet while over fading blossom hovering , Bids him in haste reseek his winter home . Such are not free !
I watched the flowrets in the sunbeams bending , Each silver leaf seemed kissed by purest light , I heard the monarch Wind his mandate sending , That all should bow their head beneath his might : They slept , for eve had laid her dusky finger On each fair brow and tear-bedewed eye , Wept not the flowers because they might not linger , To bid good night to stars in midnight sky . These are not free !
I watched the grey eve go forth on her wandering , With God ' s own seal to close all nature ' s store , Her fevered lips moved in their mystic pondering , While pausing on old hoary ocean ' s shore ;; Fain would her weary heated footsteps falter , Amid the cool hush which around is spread , But night has come to raise her ruined altar , And sacrifice ere daylight rears her head . These are not free !
Free ! naught is free but that old deep affection , Which makes on well-fixed Memory her rooat , Bidding sometimes each treasured recollection , From the strong chain which binds it be unloosed ; The clinging love which in life ' s wintry weather , Goes forth to search for mem ' ry ' s gems of yore , With trembling but unfettered hands to gather The relics of what was , but is no more . This , this is free ! Emilie M .