The Yale Literary Magazine, Bind 28

Forsideomslag
Yale Literary Society, 1863

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Side 130 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope through 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 127 - Truly a Thinking Man is the worst enemy the Prince of Darkness can have ; every time such a one announces himself, I doubt not, there runs a shudder through the Nether Empire ; and new Emissaries are trained, with new tactics, to, if possible, entrap him, and hoodwink and handcuff him.
Side 146 - Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man.
Side 105 - Of recreation there is none So free as fishing is alone; All other pastimes do no less Than mind and body both possess; My hand alone my work can do So I can fish and study too.
Side 89 - She seemed to the entranced Fay The loveliest of the forms of light; Her mantle was the purple rolled At twilight in the west afar; 'Twas tied with threads of dawning gold, And buttoned with a sparkling star. Her face was like the lily roon That veils the vestal planet's hue; Her eyes, two beamlets from the moon, Set floating in the welkin blue. Her hair is like the sunny beam, And the diamond gems which round it gleam Are the pure drops of dewy even That ne'er have left their native heaven.
Side 87 - Tis the middle watch of a summer's night,— The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; Naught is seen in the vault on high But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky, And the flood which rolls its milky hue, A river of light on the welkin blue. The moon looks down on old Cro'nest; She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast, And seems his huge gray form to throw In a silver cone on the wave below.
Side 103 - This day dame Nature seem'd in love : The lusty sap began to move; Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines, And birds had drawn their valentines. The jealous Trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well-dissembled fly : There stood my friend with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quill.
Side 87 - The winds are whist, and the owl is still; The bat in the shelvy rock is hid ; And...
Side 48 - bacco box, He heaved a bitter sigh, And then began to eye his pipe, And then to pipe his eye. And then he tried to sing "All's Well," But could not though he tried : His head was turned, and so he chewed His pigtail till he died.
Side 88 - Played in the ringlets of her hair, And, nestling on her snowy breast, Forgot the lily-king's behest. For this the shadowy tribes of air To the elfin court must haste away :— And now they stand expectant there, To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay.

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