Early Prose Writings of James Russell Lowell

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John Lane, 1903 - 248 pages
 

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Page 94 - Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen and save! Listen, and appear to us, In name of great Oceanus. By the earthshaking Neptune's mace, And Tethys...
Page 144 - My soul, like to a ship in a black storm, Is driven I know not whither.
Page 175 - ... perfect practice : To end the controversy, in a rapture Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly. So many voluntaries and so quick, That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Meeting in one full centre of delight.
Page 94 - It was my heaven's extremes! sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer. My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move! A narrow compass ! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribbon bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Page 51 - THE human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races, the men who borrow, and the men who lend.
Page 89 - THE lark now leaves his watery nest, And climbing, shakes his dewy wings ; He takes this window for the east ; And to implore your light, he sings, Awake, awake, the morn will never rise, Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
Page 90 - Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee, And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No...
Page 93 - True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.
Page 204 - When my first fire knew no adulterate incense, Nor I no way to flatter, but my fondness ; In all the bravery my friends could show me, In all the faith my innocence could give me, In the best language my true tongue could tell me, And all the broken sighs my sick heart lend me, I sued and served : long did I love this lady, Long was my travail, long my trade to win her ; With all the duty of my soul, I served her.
Page 114 - Give me a spirit that on life's rough sea Loves to have his sails filled with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low, That she drinks water, and her keel ploughs air.

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