The Oberlin Review, Том 17

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Union Library Association, 1890

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Сторінка 351 - We are living, we are dwelling, In a grand and awful time, In an age on ages telling, To be living is sublime.
Сторінка 283 - T was the hour when One in Sion Hung for love's sake on a cross ; When His brow was chill with dying, And His soul was faint with loss ; When His priestly blood dropped downward, And His kingly eyes looked throneward — Then, Pan was dead.
Сторінка 386 - tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop, and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender lago,— IAGO.
Сторінка 294 - For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Сторінка 386 - The Moor is of a free and open nature, That thinks men honest, that but seem to be so ; And will as tenderly be led by the nose, As asses are.
Сторінка 309 - Men, as well as women, are much oftener led by their hearts than by their understandings. The way to the heart is through the senses; please their eyes and their ears and the work is half done.
Сторінка 294 - Salute you!" was the gladiators' cry In the arena, standing face to face With death and with the Roman populace. O ye familiar scenes, — ye groves of pine, That once were mine and are no longer mine,— Thou river, widening through the meadows green To the vast sea, so near and yet unseen,— Ye halls, in whose seclusion and repose Phantoms of fame, like exhalations, rose And...
Сторінка 391 - In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Сторінка 401 - There was a South of slavery and secession — that South is dead. There is a South of union and freedom — that South, thank God, is living, breathing, growing every hour." These words, delivered from the immortal lips of Benjamin H. Hill, at Tammany Hall, in 1866, true then and truer now, I shall make my text tonight.
Сторінка 340 - Resolved, that we sincerely condole with the family of the deceased on the dispensation with which it has pleased divine providence to afflict them, and commend them for consolation to him who orders all things for the best and whose chastisements are meant in mercy. Resolved, that this heartfelt testimonial of our sympathy and sorrow be forwarded to the family of our departed friend by the secretary of the meCtillg- CSÍgnt P.

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