File:The token - a Christmas and New Year's present (1830) (14592256390).jpg

Identifier: tokenchristmasne00good (find matches)
Title: The token : a Christmas and New Year's present
Year: 1830 (1830s)
Authors: Goodrich, Samuel G. (Samuel Griswold), 1793-1860
Subjects: Gift books
Publisher: Boston : Carter and Hendee
Contributing Library: The Centre for 19th Century French Studies - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
lip, the eyelid wet. And blessing spoken—In the holy scene that haunts me yet. Farewell! for thou art now Enshrined forever;With the bridal chaplet round thy brow,And thy spirit holier for the vow, That breaks not ever.To which thy soul must hopeless bow. For thee my lonely heart With passions sorrowWill wither as thy guileless steps depart,And oft the heavy tear will start. When on the morrowThourt gone, my life-star as thou art! 60 THE TOKEN. Yet is thine image one, That long will lingerIn Memorys temple, like a melting toneOf music from a spring bird gone. Till Deaths dark fingerHath written that my hour is run. My love will to thee cling, Like thought in morningAround a vision that hath taken wingFrom sleep, or as to flowers of spring, The bower adorning.That have been taen away while blossoming. Farewell! I keep my sight Where thou art fleeting,And with a feeling of sad delight.While darkens around me despairs deep night. View thee retreating,As if an angel was there in flight.
Text Appearing After Image:
2srOT(D©iisrom, Pcihlishedljy SGGoofiriGhyCo.Boston IxNNOCENCE. BY GRENVILLE MELLEN. The pure in heart.* Emblem of purest light on earth!In whom the beautiful has birth,That with a silent power commandsThe stern and sinful of all lands;Type of the sainted and divine!That first on Edens bowers did shineWith the young morning of that daySo soon to pass in clouds away!Sweet purity and love!—sleep on—Not yet, not yet has glory from the dim earth gone I Sleep mid thy forest leaves, fair boy—The heavens hang over thee in joy,And through thy shadowy solitudeSteals glaring by the horrid broodWhose roar has startled the lone night.Turning the dream-flushed slumberer white,6 \ 62 THE TOKEN. Now passing onward as in fearOf youth so bright and brow so clear.Laid in its wondrous beauty there,Under the waving woods and dewy scented air! Sleep neath thy whispering canopy—Thy infant look has hallowed thee.And thy untented head reposesMid noise of brooks and breath of roses,Neath desert crags

Note About Images