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| Document | Max. Freq | Min. Freq | ||
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| The Cambridge of eighteen hundred and ninety-six: a picture of the city and its industries fifty years after its incorporation (ed. Arthur Gilman) | 2 | 0 | Browse | Search |
| Cambridge sketches (ed. Estelle M. H. Merrill) | 2 | 2 | Browse | Search |
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Browsing named entities in Cambridge sketches (ed. Estelle M. H. Merrill). You can also browse the collection for Caroline F. Orne or search for Caroline F. Orne in all documents.
Your search returned 2 results in 2 document sections:
Sweet Auburn and Mount Auburn. Mrs. Caroline F. Orne.
Under these two names-Sweet Auburn and Mount Auburn — have the beautiful grounds, now endeared to countless hearts, been known and loved for more than a century.
In 1635, Simon Stone, an English gentleman, came to New England with his family and settled on the banks of the Charles River; and his broad lands, after having passed from father to son in unbroken line of descent, for over two hundred years, form now portions of the Cambridge Cemetery and of Mount Auburn.
In the former a small tablet, marked Simon Stone, denotes the spot where still lives and bears fruit one of the ancient pear trees planted by the pilgrim's hand, and looked on with reverential interest by his descendants to the eleventh generation.
Stone's Mount, on which the Tower in Mount Auburn stands, formed a part also of the many acres of Simon Stone and his descendants.
These beautiful grounds possessed every variety of charm that nature could besto
Cambridge sketches (ed. Estelle M. H. Merrill), Idlesse. (search)
Idlesse. Mrs. Caroline F. Orne. Out upon the swelling wave Sweeping onward toward the shore, Lies and swings a tiny boat But with neither sail nor oar. If I were in that little boat I would not lie and rock and float Up and down, from side to side, Rolling with the rolling tide.
Far away the glimmering light Underneath the horizon line With its faint mysterious shine, And its wavering, dark and bright, Luring from the quiet shore Would draw me, draw me ever thither, Till I learned the mystery Of the white-winged ships and whither O'er the wide, far-reaching sea, Their bold pinions bear them free; Till those strange, rich lands I found, Whence the mariners brown and old Bring the treasures of the East, Bring the spices, pearls and gold, From the earth's remotest bound.
Up and down, from side to side, Rolling with the rolling tide, Lies and rocks the little boat And I watch it rock and float, As I lie and idly dream Of a world beyond the sea, And a voyage that cannot be; Till half