The Sewanee Review, Bind 4

Forsideomslag
University of the South, 1895
 

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Side 47 - With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum : Now teach me, maid composed, To...
Side 293 - Of her bright face one glance will trace A picture on the brain, And of her voice in echoing hearts A sound must long remain; But memory, such as mine of her, So very much endears, When death is nigh my latest sigh Will not be life's, but hers.
Side 47 - O'erhang his wavy bed : Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-ey'd bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn, As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum...
Side 46 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Side 31 - L'étang reflète, Profond miroir, La silhouette Du saule noir Où le vent pleure... Rêvons : c'est l'heure. Un vaste et tendre Apaisement Semble descendre Du firmament Que l'astre irise... C'est l'heure exquise.
Side 46 - She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Side 290 - A sister to the night !— Sleep not ! — thine image wakes for aye Within my watching breast: Sleep not! — from her soft sleep should fly, Who robs all hearts of rest. Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break, And make this darkness gay With looks, whose brightness well might make...
Side 22 - Nous voulons, tant ce feu nous brule le cerveau, Plonger au fond du gouffre, Enfer ou Ciel, qu'importe? Au fond de l'Inconnu pour trouver du nouveau\ It's time.
Side 105 - O World ! O life ! O time ! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before, — When will return the glory of your prime ? No more — oh never more ! Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight ; Fresh Spring, and Summer, and Winter hoar, Move my faint heart with grief, — but with delight No more — oh never more!
Side 35 - Car nous voulons la Nuance encor, Pas la couleur, rien que la nuance! Oh! la nuance seule fiance Le rêve au rêve et la flûte au cor!

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