To College Girls and Other Essays

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Houghton Mifflin, 1911 - Essays - 115 pages
 

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Page 104 - There they stood, ranged along the hill-sides — met To view the last of me, a living frame For one more picture ! in a sheet of flame I saw them and I knew them all. And yet Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set And blew " Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came...
Page 104 - What in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf He strikes on, only when the timbers start.
Page 104 - How such a one was strong, and such was bold, And such was fortunate, yet, each of old Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
Page 94 - So, then, we have the three ranks: the man who perceives rightly, because he does not feel, and to whom the primrose is very accurately the primrose, because he does not love it. Then, secondly, the man who perceives wrongly, because he feels...
Page 56 - So was he lifted gently from the ground, And with their freight homeward the shepherds moved Through the dull mist, I following — when a step, A single step, that freed me from the skirts Of the blind vapour, opened to my view Glory beyond all glory ever seen By waking sense or by the dreaming soul...
Page 104 - Not see? because of night perhaps? - Why, day Came back again for that! before it left, The dying sunset kindled through a cleft: The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay, 'Now stab and end the creature - to the heft!
Page 46 - Tis less than to be born ; a lasting sleep; A quiet resting from all jealousy, A thing we all pursue. I know, besides, It is but giving over of a game That must be lost.
Page 54 - From all that's fair, from all that's foul, Peals out a cheerful song. It is not only in the rose, It is not only in the bird, Not only where the rainbow glows, Nor in the song of woman heard, But in the darkest, meanest things There alway, alway something sings.
Page 90 - And sumless riches, from affection's deep, To pour on broken reeds — a wasted shower ! And to make idols, and to find them clay, And to bewail that worship. Therefore pray...
Page 90 - Her lot is on you— to be found untired, Watching the stars out by the bed of pain. With a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired, And a true heart of hope, though hope be vain. Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, And oh ! to lore through all things— therefore pray...

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