Modern Language Notes, Bind 5

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Johnson Reprint Corporation, Kraus Reprint Corporation, 1890

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Side 195 - Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster.
Side 155 - To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half enclose him round With all his peers: attention held them mute. Thrice he assayed, and thrice in spite of scorn, Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth...
Side 281 - HER eyes are homes of silent prayer, Nor other thought her mind admits But, he was dead, and there he sits, And he that brought him back is there. Then one deep love doth supersede All other, when her ardent gaze Roves from the living brother's face, And rests upon the Life indeed. All subtle thought, all curious fears, Borne down by gladness so complete, She bows, she bathes the Saviour's feet With costly spikenard and with tears.
Side 189 - JOHN AMOS COMENIUS, Bishop of the Moravians. His Life and Educational Works, by SS LAURIE, AM, FRSE, Professor of the Institutes and History of Education in the University of Edinburgh.
Side 277 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Side 9 - He, making speedy way through spersed ayre, And through the world of waters wide and deepe, To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire. Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe, And low, where dawning day doth never peepe, His dwelling is ; there Tethys his wet bed Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steepe In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed, Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred.
Side 9 - Whose double gates he findeth locked fast, The one faire fram'd of burnisht yvory, The other all with silver overcast; And wakeful dogges before them farre doe lye, Watching to banish Care their enimy, Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe.
Side 281 - OH, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth; Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.
Side 9 - But his waste wordes retournd to him in vaine : So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake. Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine, Whereat he gan to stretch ; but he againe Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake. As one then in a dreame, whose dryer braine Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weake, He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.
Side 199 - tis something ; we may stand Where he in English earth is laid, And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land. Tis little ; but it looks in truth As if the quiet bones were blest Among familiar names to rest And in the places of his youth.

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