The Harvard Monthly, Volumi 29-30Students of Harvard College, 1900 |
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Brani popolari
Pagina 221 - I Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never I Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir. Do you see this ? Look on her, look, her lips, Look there, look there I
Pagina 221 - For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royally: and, for his passage, The soldiers' music and the rites of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies: such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
Pagina 221 - The weight of this sad time we must obey, Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Pagina 171 - it is not now as it hath been of yore; turn whereso'er I may, by night or day, the things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Pagina 149 - For thence,— a paradox Which comforts while it mocks,— Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me: A brute I might have been, but would not sink i
Pagina 119 - My bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor's coat And starts me in the dark. ***** * * "All night across the dark we steer, But when the day returns at last Safe in my room, beside the pier I find my vessel fast.
Pagina 121 - Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet A man goes riding by, Late in the night when the fires are out. Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Pagina 166 - there is neither right nor wrong,— gratitude or its opposite,— claim or duty,— paternity or sonship. . . . The whole is a passing pageant, where we should sit as unconcerned at the issues for life or death as at the battle of the frogs and mice.
Pagina 89 - This idea is that religion and poetry are identical in essence, and differ merely in the way in which they are attached to practical affairs. Poetry is called religion when it intervenes in life, and religion, when it merely supervenes upon life, is seen to be nothing but poetry.
Pagina 133 - Rain, rain, and sun ! a rainbow on the lea! And truth is this to me, and that to thee; And truth or clothed or naked let it be. Rain, sun, and rain 1 and the free blossom blows : Sun, rain, and sun