Imágenes de páginas

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of ex. quisite music.

Evangeline. Part i. 1. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

Part i. 3. And as she looked around, she saw how Death the

consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.

Part ii, 5.

God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for

this planting. The Courtship of Miles Stundish. iv. Into a world unknown, the corner-stone of a nation ! 2

Saint Augustine ! well hast thou said,

That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame.3

The Ladder of Saint Augustine.
The heights by great men reached and kept

Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they while their companions slept
Were toiling upward in the night.

The surest pledge of a deathless name
Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.

The Herons of Elmwood. He has singed the beard of the king of Spain.

The Dutch Picture.


i See Stoughton, page 266. 2 Plymouth rock.

8 I held it truth. with him who sings

To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.

TENNYSON : In Memoriam, i. 4 Sir Francis Drake entered the harbour of Cadiz, April 19, 1587, and destroyed shipping to the amount of ten thousand tons lading. To use his own expressive phrase, he had "singed the Spanish king's beard." Knight: Pictorial History of England, vol. iii. p. 215.

The love of learning, the sequestered nooks,
And all the sweet serenity of books. Morituri Salutamus.

With useless endeavour
Forever, forever,
Is Sisyphus rolling
His stone up the mountain !

The Masque of Pandora. Chorus of the Eumenides. All things come round to him who will but wait.1

Tales of a Wayside Inn. The Student's Tale. Time has laid his hand Upon my heart gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.

The Golden Legend. iv. Hospitality sitting with Gladness.

Translation from Frithiof's Saga.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate,

Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours
Weeping upon his bed has sate,
He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.

Motto, Hyperion. Book 1.2
Something the heart must have to cherish,

Must love and joy and sorrow learn;
Something with passion clasp, or perish
And in itself to ashes burn.

Ibid. Book ii.

Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few in number.

Hyperion. Book iv. Chap. viii.

i See Emerson, page 601.

2 Wer nie sein Brod mit Thränen ass,

Wer nicht die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte.

GOETHE : Wilhelm Meister, book ii. chap. xiii.

Hold the feet angel fast until he bless thee.

Kavanagh. There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery.

Inferno. Canto v. Line 121.


So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn

Which once he wore ;
The glory from his gray hairs gone

For evermore !


Making their lives a prayer.

To A. K. On receiving a Basket of Sea-Mosses.

And step by step, since time began,
I see the steady gain of man.

The Chapel of the Ilermits.
For still the new transcends the old
In signs and tokens manifold;
Slaves rise up men; the olive waves,
With roots deep set in battle graves !


Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time,

So “ Bonnie Doon” but tarry;
Blot out the epic's stately rhyme,
But spare his “ Highland Mary!”

Lines on Burns.

i Quoted from Cotton's “ To-morrow.” See Genesis xxx. 3. 2 See Chaucer, page 5.

In omni adversitate fortunæ, infelicissimum genus est infortunii fuisse felicem (In every adversity of fortune, to have been happy is the most unhappy kind of misfortune). — BOETHIUS : De Consolatione Philosophiæ, liber ii.

This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

TENNYSON : Locksley Hall, line 75.

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

Maud Muller.

Low stir of leaves and dip of oars
And lapsing waves on quiet shores. Snow Bound.
The hope of all who suffer,
The dread of all who wrong.

The Mantle of St. John de Matha.

I know not where His islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift

Beyond His love and care. The Eternal Goodness.

SALMON P. CHASE. 1808–1873.

The Constitution, in all its provisions, looks to an indestructible Union composed of indestructible States.

Decision in Texas v. White, 7 Wallace, 725. No more slave States; no slave Territories.

Platform of the Free Soil National Convention, 1848. The way to resumption is to resume.

Letter to Horace Greeley, March 17, 1866.


My country, 't is of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing :
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain-side

Let freedom ring.

National Hymn.

Our fathers' God, to thee,
Author of liberty,

To thee I sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by thy might,

Great God, our King !

National Hymn.


There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o’the world ; oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time!

A Vision of Poets.
And Chaucer, with his infantine
Familiar clasp of things divine.

And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben,
Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when
The world was worthy of such men.

Knowledge by suffering entereth,

And life is perfected by death. Ibid. Conclusion. Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west.

Toll slowly. And I smiled to think God's goodness flowed around our

incompleteness, Round our restlessness His rest.

Rhyme of the Duchess. Or from Browning some “Pomegranate," which if cut

deep down the middle Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

Lady Geraldine's Courtship. xli.

But since he had
The genius to be loved, why let him have
The justice to be honoured in his grave.

Crowned and buried. xxvii.

« AnteriorContinuar »