The Sewanee Review, Том 27

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University of the South, 1919

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Страница 402 - I protest that if some great Power would agree to make me always think what is true and do what is right, on condition of being turned into a sort of clock and wound up every morning before I got out of bed, I should instantly close with the offer.
Страница 403 - It fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so : That, howsoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.
Страница 246 - German people towards us (who were, no doubt, as ignorant of them as we ourselves were), but only in the selfish designs of a Government that did what it pleased and told its people nothing.
Страница 156 - At the termination of this sentence I started, and for a moment paused; for it appeared to me (although I at once concluded that my excited fancy had deceived me) — it appeared to me that from some very remote portion of the mansion, there came indistinctly to my ears what might have been, in its exact similarity of character, the echo (but a stifled and dull one certainly) of the very cracking and ripping sound which Sir Launcelot had so particularly described.
Страница 142 - And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith: Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; But he shouted a song for the brave and the free — Just read on his medal, "My country,
Страница 355 - We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show...
Страница 359 - A general association of nations must be formed under specific covenants for the purpose of affording mutual guarantees of political independence and territorial integrity to great and small States alike.
Страница 38 - Thou sawest, in thine old singing season, brother, Secrets and sorrows unbeheld of us: Fierce loves, and lovely leaf-buds poisonous, Bare to thy subtler eye, but for none other Blowing by night in some unbreathed-in clime; The hidden harvest of luxurious time, Sin without shape, and pleasure without speech?
Страница 408 - Our gaieties, our luxuries, Our pleasures and our glee, Mere insolence and wantonness, Alas ! they feel to me. How shall I laugh and sing and dance ? My very heart recoils, While here to give my mirth a chance A hungry brother toils. The joy that does not spring from joy Which I in others see, How can I venture to employ, Or find it joy for me ? Sp. Oh come, come, come ! By Him that sent us here, Who's to enjoy at all...
Страница 326 - Depend upon it, you would gain unspeakably if you would learn with me to see some of the poetry and the pathos, the tragedy and the comedy, lying in the experience of a human soul that looks out through dull grey eyes, and that speaks in a voice of quite ordinary tones.

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