Ticknor and Fields, 1860 - 352 σελίδες

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Σελίδα 351 - No stream from its source Flows seaward, how lonely soever its course, But what some land is gladdened. No star ever rose And set, without influence somewhere. Who knows What earth needs from earth's lowest creature? No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
Σελίδα 51 - We may live without poetry, music, and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books, — what is knowledge but grieving ? He may live without hope, — what is hope but deceiving ? He may live without love, — what is passion but pining ? But where is the man that can live without dining ? Lord Alfred found, waiting his coming, a note From Lucile.
Σελίδα 97 - With dread voices of power. A roused million or more Of wild echoes reluctantly rise from their hoar Immemorial ambush, and roll in the wake Of the cloud, whose reflection leaves vivid the lake.
Σελίδα 349 - When all's over. The ways they are many and wide, ' And seldom are two ways the same. Side by side ' May we stand at the same little door when all's done ! ' The ways they are many, the end it is one.
Σελίδα 253 - JOHN. Sit down ! A fortnight ago a report about town Made me most apprehensive. Alas, and alas ! I at once wrote and warn'd you. Well, now let that pass. A run on the Bank about five days ago Confirm'd my forebodings too terribly, though. I drove down to the city at once : found the door Of the Bank close : the Bank had stopp'd payment at four.
Σελίδα 348 - Port, will he ask Any one of such questions ? I cannot think so ! But, 'What is the last Bill of Health you can show?
Σελίδα 106 - How blest should we be, have I often conceived, Had we really achieved what we nearly achieved ! We but catch at the skirts of the thing we would be, And fall back on the lap of a false destiny.
Σελίδα 347 - Decks drenched, bulwarks beaten, — drives safe into port, When the Pilot of Galilee, seen on the strand, Stretches over the waters a welcoming hand ; When, heeding no longer the sea's baffled roar, The mariner turns to his rest evermore ; What will then be the answer the helmsman must give ? Will it be . . . ' Lo our log-book ! Thus once did we live In the zones of the South ; thus we traversed the seas...
Σελίδα 351 - The spirits of just men made perfect on high, The army of martyrs who stand by the Throne And gaze into the Face that makes glorious their own, Know this, surely, at last. Honest love, honest sorrow, Honest work for the day, honest hope for the morrow, Are these worth nothing more than the hand they make weary, The heart they have sadden'd, the life they leave dreary ? Hush ! the sevenfold heavens to the voice of the Spirit Echo : He that o'ercometh shall all things inherit.
Σελίδα 68 - She crush'd not the nettle; For she could not ; nor would she avoid it : she tried With the weak hand of woman to thrust it aside, And it stung her. A woman is too slight a thing To trample the world without feeling its sting.

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