Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Том 42;Том 105

Передня обкладинка
John Holmes Agnew, Henry T. Steele, Walter Hilliard Bidwell
Leavitt, Throw and Company, 1885
 

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Сторінка 333 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...
Сторінка 521 - In form and moving how express and admirable ! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, — no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
Сторінка 521 - A murderer and a villain ; A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe Of your precedent lord ; a vice of kings ; A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, And put it in his pocket ! Queen.
Сторінка 141 - Although affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground ; Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.
Сторінка 161 - Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie; Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, We Sinais climb and know it not.
Сторінка 523 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely. The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin...
Сторінка 301 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Сторінка 521 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown: The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword, The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down.
Сторінка 522 - Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Сторінка 161 - This water his blood that died on the tree; The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need ; Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare ; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.

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