Rose-Belford's Canadian Monthly and National Review, Volum 8

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Rose-Belford Publishing Company, 1882
 

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Side 244 - I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
Side 55 - No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp ; And crook the pregnant ' hinges of the knee, Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear ? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, And could of men distinguish her election, She hath sealed thee for herself.
Side 56 - My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have uttered : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from.
Side 489 - I remember the gleams and glooms that dart Across the school-boy's brain; The song and the silence in the heart, That in part are prophecies, and in part Are longings wild and vain. And the voice of that fitful song Sings on, and is never still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Side 248 - Our two souls, therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two ; Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if th
Side 491 - And with them the being beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep, Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine ; And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eves, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Side 61 - ... my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Side 59 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Side 218 - Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where, Where are thy men of might, thy grand in soul? Gone, — glimmering through the dream of things that were : First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and passed away, — is this the whole?
Side 61 - BREAK, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay...

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