The Yale Literary Magazine, Bind 4

Forsideomslag
Herrick & Noyes., 1839
 

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Side 223 - 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 458 - 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 476 - O'er treasures burthening life, and buried deep In cavern-tomb, and sought through shades and stealth, By some pale mortal, trembling at his wealth. But woe for those who trample o'er a mind ! A deathless thing ! They know not what they do, Nor what they deal with. Man perchance may bind The flower his step hath bruised ; or light anew The torch he quenches ; or to music wind Again the lyre-string from his touch that flew ; — But for the soul I — oh I tremble, and beware To lay rude hands upon...
Side 49 - Alas, sir ! a commonwealth ought to be but as one huge christian personage, one mighty growth and stature of an honest man, as big and compact in virtue as in body...
Side 482 - 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 241 - Thanks for that lesson — it will teach To after-warriors more Than high Philosophy can preach, And vainly preach'd 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 345 - 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 250 - T is 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. 'T is a mysterious feeling, which combines Man with the world around him, in a chain Woven of flowers...
Side 2 - An Inquiry respecting the Self-determining Power of the Will; or Contingent Volition. By Jeremiah Day, President of Yale College. New Haven : Herrick & Noyes. 1838.
Side 104 - 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.

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