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If you want a place in the sun, you've got to put up with a few blisters.
If you want a place in the sun, you've got to put up with a few blisters.
Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to read more
Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to Octavia . . . they seemed
to be written in sunbeams.
The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.
The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.
Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.
Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
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See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.
When the Sun
Clearest shineth
Serenest in the heaven,
Quickly are obscured
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When the Sun
Clearest shineth
Serenest in the heaven,
Quickly are obscured
All over the earth
Other stars.
She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of read more
She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.