The Yale Literary Magazine, Bind 4Yale Literary Society, 1839 |
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amid beauty beneath Bishop of Autun bosom breath bright brow character charms church of Rome clouds Codrus dark death deep delight Demijohn dream dwell earth emotions fair father fear feel flowers Ganymede gaze genius glory grave Grib hand happiness hath heart heaven honor hope hour human imagination immortal influence Jedediah JEREMIAH DAY land LATIN ANTHOLOGY liberty light living look lyre Maverick mind moral morning mountain nation nature never night noble o'er once opinions pale passed passion Périgord Phaon Pinetown pleasure poet poetry principles Protestantism reader Sappho scenes seemed sentiment shade silent smile song soon sorrow soul spirit strange sweet tears thee things thou thought tion tones true truth Viola virtue voice wave wild wind wonder YALE COLLEGE YALE LITERARY MAGAZINE young youth
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Side 219 - I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Side 237 - Thanks for that lesson. — It will teach To after-warriors more Than high Philosophy can preach, And vainly preached before. That spell upon the minds of men Breaks, never to unite again, That led them to adore Those Pagod things of sabre sway With fronts of brass and feet of clay.
Side 454 - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Side 341 - Oh for a tongue to curse the slave, Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might...
Side 478 - Before the gates there sat On either side a formidable shape; The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fold Voluminous and vast, a serpent armed With mortal sting.
Side 248 - Tis not the chime and flow of words, that move In measured file, and metrical array; 'Tis not the union of returning sounds, Nor all the pleasing artifice of rhyme, And quantity, and accent, that can give This all-pervading spirit to the ear, Or blend it with the movings of the soul. 'Tis a mysterious feeling, which combines Man with the world around him, in a chain Woven of flowers...
Side 362 - And the battle went sore against Saul, and the archers hit him ; and he was sore wounded of the archers.
Side 468 - All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell. When nature rests Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes To imitate her; but misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams; 111 matching words and deeds long past or late.
Side 100 - For home he had not: home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polish'd friends And dear relations mingle into bliss.