The Yale Literary Magazine, Том 21

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Yale Literary Society, 1856
 

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Страница 65 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, 'She is near, she is near;' And the white rose weeps, 'She is late;' The larkspur listens, 'I hear, I hear;' And the lily whispers, 'I wait.
Страница 170 - How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.
Страница 8 - Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day : Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Страница 95 - Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
Страница 130 - PARADISE AND THE PERI. ONE morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; And as she listened to the Springs Of Life within, like music flowing, And caught the light upon her wings Through the half-open portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place !
Страница 34 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Страница 102 - There was an old woman who lived In a shoe, She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
Страница 178 - In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care.
Страница 46 - If now I have found grace in thy sight, put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal kindly and truly with me; bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt: but I will lie with my fathers, and thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their buryingplace.
Страница 250 - LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind memento ; But how the subject theme may gang, Let time and chance determine ; Perhaps, it may turn out a sang, Perhaps, turn out a sermon.

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