American Literature

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B. F. Johnson publishing Company, 1914 - 415 Seiten
 

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Seite 210 - Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne,— Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own. The
Seite 221 - The Chambered Nautilus": Build thee more stately mansions, 0 my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! The
Seite 15 - I thank God there are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope we shall not have these hundred years; for learning has brought disobedience and heresy and sects into the world, and printing has developed them.
Seite 223 - Lord of all being! throned afar, Thy glory flames from sun and star; Center and soul of every sphere, Yet to each loving heart how near I Grant us thy truth to make us free, And kindling hearts that burn for thee, Till all thy living altars claim One holy light, one heavenly flame!
Seite 364 - One's-Self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. Of physiology from top to toe I sing, Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say the Form complete is worthier far, The Female equally with the Male I sing.
Seite 163 - We will walk on our own feet; we will work with our own hands; we will speak our own minds. ... A nation of men will for the first time exist, because each believes himself inspired by the Divine Soul which also inspires all men. This
Seite 362 - Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet. Over the tree-tops I float thee a song, Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the prairies wide, Over the dense-packed cities all and the teeming wharves and ways, I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O death.
Seite 300 - I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon; To whom the better elements And kindly stars have given A form so fair, that, like the air, 'Tis less of earth than heaven. The
Seite 199 - I know a maiden fair to see, Take care! She can both false and friendly be, Beware! Beware! Trust her not! She is fooling thee! She has two eyes, so soft and brown, Take care! She gives a side-glance and looks down, Beware! Beware! Trust her not! She is fooling thee!
Seite 371 - I ask not for the great, the remote, the romantic ... I embrace the common; I sit at the feet of the familiar and the low . . . Man is surprised to find that things near are not less beautiful and wondrous than things remote . . . The perception of the worth of the vulgar is fruitful in discoveries.

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