The Sewanee Review, Том 9

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University of the South, 1901
 

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Сторінка 69 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Сторінка 68 - A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide...
Сторінка 285 - So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord : but let them that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might.
Сторінка 285 - The mother of Sisera looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?
Сторінка 68 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Сторінка 427 - Tis a deed of darkness. Exit Bos. He's much distracted. Off, my painted honour! While with vain hopes our faculties we tire, We seem to sweat in ice and freeze in fire. What would I do, were this to do again? I would not change my peace of conscience For all the wealth of Europe.
Сторінка 492 - Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Сторінка 146 - Senate, having demanded the delivery of his commission, applied to the Supreme Court for a writ of mandamus to compel its delivery.
Сторінка 108 - None but would forego his proper dowry, — Does he paint? he fain would write a poem, — Does he write? he fain would paint a picture, Put to proof art alien to the artist's, Once, and only once, and for one only, So to be the man and leave the artist, Gain the man's joy, miss the artist's sorrow.
Сторінка 285 - At her feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down ; at her feet he bowed, he fell : where he bowed, there he fell down dead.

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