The North American Review, Volume 63

Front Cover
Jared Sparks, Edward Everett, James Russell Lowell, Henry Cabot Lodge
O. Everett, 1846 - American fiction
Vols. 227-230, no. 2 include: Stuff and nonsense, v. 5-6, no. 8, Jan. 1929-Aug. 1930.
 

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Page 337 - And he had a son, whose name was Saul, a choice young man and a goodly. And there was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he: from his shoulders and upward he was higher than any of the people.
Page 39 - Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspir'd their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all combin'd in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest.
Page 49 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one (from whence they came) Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life...
Page 43 - Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!
Page 83 - Or painful to his slumbers: easy, light, And as a purling stream, thou son of Night, Pass by his troubled senses: sing his pain Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain. Into this prince, gently, oh gently slide; And kiss him into slumbers, like a bride.
Page 63 - ... t fools make such vain keeping? Sin their conception, their birth weeping, Their life a general mist of error, Their death a hideous storm of terror. Strew your hair with powders sweet, Don clean linen, bathe your feet, And (the foul fiend more to check) A crucifix let bless your neck: 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day; End your groan, and come away.
Page 64 - I'd not be tedious to you. Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strength Must pull down heaven upon me. Yet stay, heaven gates are not so highly arch'd As princes' palaces ; they that enter there Must go upon their knees. Come, violent death, Serve for Mandragora to make me sleep. Go tell my brothers ; when I am laid out, They then may feed in quiet.
Page 44 - Tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide," supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you ; and, being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is, in his own conceit, the only Shake-scene in a country.
Page 82 - Do my face (If thou had'st ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila : strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument ; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless ; let the rocks Groan with continual surges ; and behind me, Make all a desolation.

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