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Nesio Sanders
Nesio Sanders

O Jays Your True Heart Shining Star Free



Get lyrics of Your true heart by the ojays song you love. List contains Your true heart by the ojays song lyrics of older one songs and hot new releases. Get known every word of your favorite song or start your own karaoke party tonight :-).




o jays your true heart shining star



Get lyrics of Your true heart is a shining star by the ojays song you love. List contains Your true heart is a shining star by the ojays song lyrics of older one songs and hot new releases. Get known every word of your favorite song or start your own karaoke party tonight :-).


In the bright parlor the talk was still on public affairs.The war was over, but its issues were still largely insuspense and were not questions of boundaries ordynasties; they underlay every Southern hearthstone;the possibilities of each to-morrow were the personalconcern and distress of every true Southern man, ofevery true Southern woman.


Far in the night the husband awoke. He could thinkbetter now, in the almost perfect stillness. There were faintsigns of one or two servants being astir, but in the oldSouth that was always so. He pondered again upon thepresent and the future of the unhappy race upon whomfreedom had come as a wild freshet. Thousands must sink,thousands starve, for all were drunk with its crueldelusions. Yea, on this deluge the whole Southern socialworld, with its two distinct divisions - the shiningupper - the dark nether - was reeling and careening,threatening, each moment, to turn once and forever wrongside up, a hope-forsaken wreck. To avert this, to holdsociety on its keel, must be the first and constant duty ofwhoever saw, as he did, the fearful peril. So, then, this thathe had done - and prayed that he might never have to doagain - was, underneath all its outward hideousness, amore than right, a generous, deed. For a man who, takingall the new risks, still taught these poor, base, dangerouscreatures to keep the only place they could keep withsafety to themselves or their superiors, was to them theonly truly merciful man.


Not so thought John that same hour. Servants'delinquencies had kept him from Sunday-school thatmorning and made him late at church. His mother hadstayed at home with her headache and her husband.Her son was hesitating at the churchyard gate,alone and heavy-hearted, when suddenly he saw a thingthat brought his heart into his throat and made a certainold mortification start from its long sleep with a greatinward cry. Two shabby black men passed by on plough-mules,and between them, on a poor, smart horse, all storeclothes, watch-chain, and shoe-blacking, rode thepresident of the Zion Freedom Homestead League, Mr.Corneilius Leggett, of Leggettstown. John went in.Fannie, seemingly fresh from heaven, stood behind themelodeon and sang the repentant prodigal's resolve; andhe, in raging shame for the stripes once dealt him, the liethey had scared from him at the time, and the many hehad told since to cover that one, shed such tears that hehad to steal out, and, behind a tree in the rear of thechurch, being again without a handkerchief, dry hischeeks on his sleeves.


WHEN the train stopped at a station they talked of thebook in her hand, and by the time it started on they werereading poems from the volume to each other. The roar ofthe wheels did not drown her low, searching tones; bybending close John could hear quite comfortably.Between readings they discussed those truths of theheart on which the poems touched. Later, though theystill read aloud, they often looked on the page together.


He felt himself taken at a disadvantage. His unreadyreplies to her lively promptings turned aimlessly here andthere; his thoughts could neither lead nor follow them.The wine of her pretty dissembling went to his head;while the signs of chastening in her fair face joinedstrangely with her sprightliness in an obscure patheticharmony that moved his heartstrings as he had feltyouthfully sure they were never to be moved again. Hislate anger against Ravenel came back, and with it, to hissurprise, the old tenderness for her, warmed by the angerand without the bitterness of its old chagrin. He foundhimself reminded of his letters to Johanna's distantmistress, but instantly decided that the two matters hadnothing to do with each other, and gave himself richcomfort in this visible and only half specious fulfilment ofhisyouth's long dream. The daily protection and care of thisgirl, her welcome, winsome gayeties and thanks, were his,his! with no one near to claim a division of shares andonly honor to keep account with. His words werestumbling over these unconfessed distractions when shestartled him by saying,


It was a place to quicken the heart and tongue of anywooer. The breezes moved pensively and without asound. On the middle surface of the water the sunshinelay in wide bands, liquid-bordered under overhangingboughs by glimmering shadows that wove lace in theirsleep. Between the stream and the steep ground ran anabandoned road fringed with ferns, itsbrown pine-failings flecked with a sunlight that fellthrough the twined arms and myriad green fingers ofall-namable sorts of great and lesser trees. You would havesaid the forest's every knight and lady, dwarf, page, andelf - for in this magical seclusion all the world's timeswere tangled into one - had come to the noiseless danceof some fairy's bridal; chestnut and hemlock, hazel andwitch-hazel, walnut and willow, birches white and yellow,poplar and ash in feathery bloom, the lusty oaks in thescarred harness of their winter wars under new tabards ofpink and silvergreen, and the slim service-bush, whitewith blooms and writhing in maiden shame of her tootransparent gown. In each tangled ravine Flora's littlepious mortals of the May - anemone, yellow violet, blood-root,mustard, liverwort, and their yet humbler neighborsand kin - heard mass, or held meeting - whichever itwas - and slept for blissful lack of brain while Jack-in-the-pulpitpreached to them, under Solomon's seal, and oriole,tanager, warbler, thrush, up in the choir-loft, made lovebetween the hymns, ate tidbits, and dropped crumbsupon wake-robin, baby-toes, and the nodding columbine.


And then, naturally and easily, without a jar betweentrue cause and effect, the romantic happened! Thememory took form in a dream and the dream became a keyto revelation. When Johanna brought her mistress'scoffee she found her sitting up in bed. On her white laplay the old reticule of fawnskin. She had broken the claspof its inner pocket and held in herhand a rudely scrawled paper whose blue ink andstrutting signature the unlettered maid knew at a glancewas from her old-time persecutor, Cornelius. It was theletter her father had dropped under the chair when shewas a child. Across its face were still the bold figures ofhis own pencil, and from its blue lines stared out thesecret.


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