History maketh a young man to be old, without either wrinkles or gray hairs; privilledging him with the They waste us; ay, like April snow In the warm noon we shrink away; And fast they follow as we go Towards the setting day, Till they shall fill the land, and we Are driven into the western sea,— BRYANT. FULLER'S HOLY WAR. BOSTON: HIGGINS AND BRADLEY. 1854. |