The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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H. Biglow, 1817
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Page 288 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Page 288 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...
Page 9 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Page 9 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: On with the dance! let joy be unconfined: No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet, To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
Page 340 - Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, Till our mortality predominates, And men are — what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
Page 342 - She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe; nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not; And tenderness — but that I had for her ; Humility — and that I never had. Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own — I loved her, and destroy'd her ! WITCH.
Page 337 - Old man ! there is no power in holy men, Nor charm in prayer, nor purifying form Of penitence, nor outward look, nor fast, Nor agony — nor, greater than all these, The innate tortures of that deep despair, Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself Would make a hell of heaven — can exorcise From out the unbounded spirit the quick dense Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Upon itself ; there is no future pang Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd...
Page 341 - I held but slight communion ; but instead, My joy was in the Wilderness, to breathe The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing Flit o'er the herbless granite; or to plunge Into the torrent, and to roll along On the swift whirl of the new breaking wave Of river-stream, or ocean, in their flow. In these my early strength exulted ; or To follow through the night the moving moon, . The stars and their development; or catch The dazzling lightnings till...
Page 337 - I could not tame my nature down; for he Must serve who fain would sway— and soothe, and sue. And watch all time, and pry into all place, And be a living lie, who would become A mighty thing amongst the mean, and such The mass are ; I disdain'd to mingle with A herd, though to be leader — and of wolves. The lion is alone, and so am I.
Page 333 - O'er many a year of guilt and strife, Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace ? "There was a time...

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