Proceedings ..., Bände 10-12

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Seite 181 - the dread of something after death. The nndiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience docs make cowards of us all.
Seite 72 - There is an inmost center in us all, Where truth abides in fullness: and around, Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems it in, This perfect, clear perception which is truth. To know Rather consists in opening out a way Whence the imprisoned splendor may escape. Than in effecting entry for a light Supposed to be without.
Seite 182 - my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying to me "Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot.' or "good Gobbo," or "good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away." My conscience says "No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo,
Seite 167 - Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!" Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck— It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world; he gave that world
Seite 190 - sun. Atilt like a blossom among the leaves— And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest. In the nice ear of nature which song is the best. HOW
Seite 182 - honor? The hillside for his pall. To lie in state while angels wait, With stars for tapers tall, And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes. Over his bier to wave, And God's own hand, in that lonely land, To lay
Seite 198 - Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light. Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; here
Seite 67 - For think, had I painted the whole , Why, there it had stood, to see, nor the process so wonder worth; Had I written the same made verse—still, effect proceeds from cause. Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told; It is all triumphant art, but art in obedience to laws, But
Seite 181 - MRS. ALEXANDER. By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, There lies a lonely grave. But no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er, For the Angels of God upturned the sod. And laid the dead man there That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth: But no
Seite 191 - I. I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris. and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; Good speed! cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew ; Speed! echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest. And into the midnight we galloped abreast. II. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace. Neck by neck,

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