The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 75

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1895
 

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Página 482 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future ! how it tells Of the rapture that impels...
Página 484 - The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Página 482 - It lies in Heaven, across the flood Of ether, as a bridge. Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and darkness ridge The void, as low as where this earth Spins like a fretful midge.
Página 260 - I GIVE you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball ; It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
Página 303 - Abraham, that he would grant unto us, that we, being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all the days of our life.
Página 398 - Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?
Página 483 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Página 513 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Página 674 - A dissenter, but a liberal one ; a man of letters and of genius ; master of a fine imagination, or rather not master of it — an imagination which, when he finds himself in the company he loves, and can confide in, runs away with him into such fields of speculation as amuse and enliven every other imagination that has the happiness to be of the party. At other times he has a tender and delicate sort of melancholy in his disposition, not less agreeable in its way.
Página 208 - The melodies of birds and bees, The murmuring of summer seas, And pattering rain, and breathing dew, And airs of evening; and it knew That seldom-heard mysterious sound, Which, driven on its diurnal round, As it floats through boundless day, Our world enkindles on its way...

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