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Page 353 - Lands intersected by a narrow frith Abhor each other. Mountains interposed, Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
Page 431 - tis the soul of peace ; Of all the virtues 'tis nearest kin to heaven ; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer, A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breath'd.
Page 236 - Marred his repose, the influxes of sense, And his own being unalloyed by pain, Yet feebler and more feeble, calmly fed The stream of thought, till he lay breathing there At peace, and faintly smiling : his last sight Was the great moon, which o'er the western line Of the wide world her mighty horn suspended, With whose dun beams inwoven darkness seemed To mingle.
Page 184 - ... on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man — taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to health — on the ermine which decorates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal — on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice — on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribands of the bride — at bed or board, couchant or levant, we must pay.
Page 416 - Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where, Where are thy men of might ? thy grand in soul ? Gone — glimmering through the dream of things that were...
Page 234 - Thou hast a home, Beautiful bird, thou voyagest to thine home, Where thy sweet mate will twine her downy neck With thine, and welcome thy return with eyes Bright in the lustre of their own fond joy. And what am I that I should linger here With voice far sweeter than thy dying notes, Spirit more vast than thine, frame more attuned To beauty, wasting these surpassing powers In the deaf air, to the blind earth, and heaven That echoes not my thoughts?
Page 186 - In the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book ? or goes to an American play ? or looks at an American picture or statue?
Page 236 - Of the vast meteor sunk, the Poet's blood, That ever beat in mystic sympathy With Nature's ebb and flow, grew feebler still. And, when two lessening points of light alone Gleamed through the darkness, the alternate gasp Of his faint respiration scarce did stir The stagnate night — till the minutest ray Was quenched, the pulse yet lingered in his heart. It paused — it fluttered. But, when heaven remained Utterly black, the murky shades involved An image silent, cold, and motionless, As their own...
Page 237 - How wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep ! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue ; The other, rosy as the morn When throned on ocean's wave It blushes o'er the world : Yet both so passing wonderful...
Page 102 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made: But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.