The Atlantic Monthly, Volum 14

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1864

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Side 21 - A primrose by the river's brim A yellow primrose is to him, And it is nothing more...
Side 479 - My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells, Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies. The tongues of carps, dormice, and camels...
Side 167 - There in seclusion and remote from men The wizard hand lies cold, Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen, And left the tale half told. Ah ! who shall lift that wand of magic power, And the lost clew regain ? The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower Unfinished must remain ! CHRISTMAS BELLS.
Side 576 - ENGLISH GRAMMAR is the art of speaking and writing the English Language with propriety.
Side 386 - Dead Shot (The) : or, Sportsman's Complete Guide. Being a Treatise on the Use of the Gun, with Rudimentary and Finishing Lessons in the Art of Shooting Game of all kinds.
Side 341 - With joy — and oft an unintruding guest, I watched her secret toils from day to day How true she warped the moss to form her nest, And modelled it within with wood and clay. And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew, There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers, Ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue; And there I witnessed, in the summer hours, A brood of nature's minstrels chirp and fly, Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky.
Side 443 - Barere approached nearer than any person mentioned in history or fiction, whether man or devil, to the idea of consummate and universal depravity. In him the qualities which are the proper objects of hatred, and the qualities which are the proper objects of contempt, preserve an exquisite and absolute harmony. In almost every particular sort of wickedness he has had rivals. His sensuality was immoderate ; but this was a failing...
Side 374 - War came: and now it must go on till the last man of this generation falls in his tracks, and his children seize his musket and fight our battle, unless you acknowledge our right to self-government. We are not fighting for Slavery, We are fighting for INDEPENDENCE ; and that or extermination we WILL have.
Side 396 - Papa could not hear me, and would play with me no more, for they were going to put him under ground, whence he could never come to us again." She was a very beautiful woman, of a noble spirit, and there was a dignity in her grief amidst all the wildness of her transport; which, methought, struck me with an instinct of sorrow, that before I was sensible of what it was to grieve, seized my very soul, and has made pity the weakness of my heart ever since.
Side 49 - WHAT change has made the pastures sweet And reached the daisies at my feet, And cloud that wears a golden hem ? This lovely world, the hills, the sward — They all look fresh, as if our Lord But yesterday had finished them. And...

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