The Atlantic Monthly, Том 90Atlantic Monthly Company, 1902 |
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A'mighty ain't American asked Batwa beauty better Bret Harte called Canim catboat charm child cial color course dream England eyes face fact father feel Filipinos friends George Eliot girl give hand Hannah Glasse heart human interest Jourdé kind knew labor lady land Lard laughed Leduc less light ligion live look Lord Lute M'sieu Manila Marmaduke ment mind Montaigne moral nature Nazareth negro never night once Philippines play poem poet poetry profes Pygmies race rience Russia sailing Saxe schooner seemed sense side social soul spirit story sure tell things thought tion to-day Toboso told town trees truth ture turned Uncle Simon voice woman women woods word write young Zealand
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Страница 202 - And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!
Страница 131 - Europe as being, for intellectual and spiritual purposes, one great confederation, bound to a joint action and working to a common result; and whose members have, for their proper outfit, a knowledge of Greek, Roman, and Eastern antiquity, and of one another.
Страница 203 - I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,' she said. 'Have I not prayed in Heaven?— on earth, Lord, Lord, has he not pray'd?
Страница 317 - How use doth breed a habit in a man ! This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, I better brook than flourishing peopled towns : Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, And, to the nightingale's complaining notes, Tune my distresses, and record
Страница 585 - On all sides, are we not driven to the conclusion that, of the things which man can do or make here below, by far the most momentous, wonderful and worthy are the things we call Books...
Страница 209 - Eyes, ears took in their dole, Brain treasured up the whole; Should not the heart beat once "How good to live and learn"?
Страница 202 - No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears, Of pain, darkness, and cold.
Страница 9 - And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep ; And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements f> Starts up, and stands on end.
Страница 479 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Страница 209 - Therefore I summon age To grant youth's heritage, Life's struggle having so far reached its term: Thence shall I pass, approved A man, for aye removed From the developed brute ; a God though in the germ.