The Yale Literary Magazine, Band 26,Ausgabe 3

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Herrick & Noyes, 1860
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Seite 126 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Seite 126 - Whose midnight revels, by a forest side Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while over-head the moon. Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund musick charm his ear ; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Seite 125 - By which we note the fairies Were of the old profession, Their songs were Ave- Maries, Their dances were procession : But now, alas ! they all are dead, Or gone beyond the seas ; Or farther for religion fled, Or else they take their ease.
Seite 126 - Their dances were procession. But now, alas ! they all are dead, Or gone beyond the seas, Or farther for religion fled, Or else they take their ease.
Seite 125 - In olde dayes of the king Artour, " Of which that Bretons speken gret honour, <• All was this lond fulfilled of faerie; "The elf-quene, with hire joly compagnie " Danced ful oft in many a grene mede. " This was the old opinion as I rede; " I speke of many hundred yeres ago; " But now can no man see non elves mo...
Seite 122 - And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Seite 104 - ... cragged cage, The wave again and still again Leaps fiercely up its length of chain, To fall back foaming in its rage. On the wet sands, with elfish hair, And faded fingers tightly clenched, And vest whose folds, all weather-drenched, Leave half her haggard bosom bare, She stands amid the spray, alone. O heavy heart ! that all thy years Hast held one image dim with tears, And watched it while it turned to stone.
Seite 118 - ... earlier than we should have sent you, perhaps. If schools are what they were in my time, you'll see a great many cruel blackguard things done, and hear a deal of foul bad talk. But never fear. You tell the truth, keep a brave and kind heart, and never listen to or say anything you wouldn't have your mother hear, and you'll never feel ashamed to come home, or we to see you.
Seite 125 - Who live as changelings ever since, For love of your demaines. At morning and at evening both You merry were and glad, So little care of sleepe and sloth, These prettie ladies had.
Seite 111 - Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint: Science moves, but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point: Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowlydying fire. Yet I doubt not thro...

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