The Port Folio

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Editor and Asbury Dickens, 1817 - Philadelphia (Pa.)
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Page 436 - There shall be sung another golden age, The rise of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts.
Page 492 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Page 114 - For he who fights and runs away May live to fight another day ; But he who is in battle slain Can never rise and fight again.
Page 436 - In happy climes, where from the genial sun • And virgin earth such scenes ensue, The force of Art by Nature seems outdone, And fancied beauties by the true : In happy climes, the seat of innocence, Where Nature guides and Virtue rules, Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The...
Page 222 - All obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combinations and associations, under whatever plausible character, with the real design to direct, control; counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and action of the constituted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental principle and of fatal tendency.
Page 222 - Union to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can, in any event, be abandoned...
Page 257 - Require the borrow'd gloss of art ? Speak not of fate : ah ! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream ; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Page 491 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe— into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Page 467 - WHEN the last sunshine of expiring day In summer's twilight weeps itself away, Who hath not felt the softness of the hour Sink on the heart, as dew along the flower? With a pure feeling which absorbs and awes While nature makes that melancholy pause, Her breathing moment on the bridge where Time Of light and darkness forms an arch sublime.
Page 285 - ... to support power in reverence with the people, and to secure the people from the abuse of power, that they may be free by their just obedience, and the magistrates honourable for their just administration ; for liberty without obedience is confusion, and obedience without liberty is slavery.

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