The Yale Literary Magazine, Volumen15,Tema 6

Herrick & Noyes, 1850

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Página 243 - CYRIACK, this three years day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? The conscience, Friend, to...
Página 243 - The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied In Liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content, though blind, had I no better guide.
Página 225 - Then, O God ! O God ! I beseech thee to sanctify these sufferings unto me, and impute not my blood to the country ; let no inquisition be made for it, — but if any,— and the shedding of blood that is innocent must be revenged, — let the weight of it fall only upon those that maliciously persecute me for righteousness sake.
Página 234 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended; and, I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise, and true perfection ! — Peace, hoa ! The moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awaked ! [Music ceases.
Página 244 - ... nox est perpetua una dormienda. da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
Página 225 - I pray God work in you a temper fit to go into the other world, for I see you are not fit for this.
Página 243 - To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven ... A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing...
Página 240 - And tell o' the blasts I was wont to bide, When the nights were lang, and the sea ran high, And the moon hid her face in the depths of the sky, And the mast was strained, and the canvas rent, By some demon on message of mischief sent ; O ! I bliss my stars that at hame I can bide, For dear, dear to me is my ain ingle-side ! THE SOCIAL CUP. AIR — " Andro and his cutty gun." BLYTHE, blythe, and merry are we, Blythe are we, ane and a...
Página 235 - ROVER is missing! her mariners sleep, As we fear, in the depths of the fathomless deep ; And no tidings shall tell if their death-grapple came By disease or by famine, by flood or by flame. The storm-beaten billows that ceaselessly roll Shall hide them for ever from mortal control And their tale be untold, and their history unread, Till the dark caves of ocean shall give up their dead ! Perhaps you have paused and pondered, as well as I, on the announcement,
Página 225 - Thee to sanctify these sufferings unto me, and impute not my blood to the country, nor to the great city through which I am to be drawn ; let no inquisition be made for it, but, if any, and the shedding of blood that is innocent must be avenged, let the weight of it fall upon those that maliciously persecute me for righteousness...

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