The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 20Leavitt, Trow, & Company, 1850 |
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Page 193
... shall repair , To sweet oblivion of his daily care ; No more the farmer's news , the barber's tale , No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail ; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear , Relax his ponderous strength and lean to ...
... shall repair , To sweet oblivion of his daily care ; No more the farmer's news , the barber's tale , No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail ; No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear , Relax his ponderous strength and lean to ...
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Popular passages
Page 326 - The great secret of morals is love ; or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own. A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively ; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others ; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own.
Page 482 - ... teeth: and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
Page 191 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all ; And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 327 - The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device — 1 Excelsior !' " His brow was sad ; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath ; And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue —
Page 329 - Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air; Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, Behold her grown more fair. Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken The bond which nature gives, Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, May reach her where she lives.
Page 482 - ... books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.
Page 327 - Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent Is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior ! "O stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!
Page 328 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Page 328 - And with them the being beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine ; And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Page 184 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.