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Charles Wells Moulton
Moulton publishing Company, 1904 - American literature
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Page 204 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Page 5 - POL. Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has tears in's eyes. Prithee, no more. HAM. 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest of this soon. — Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used, for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time; after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
Page 476 - My own dim life should teach me this, That life shall live for evermore, Else earth is darkness at the core, And dust and ashes all that is...
Page 407 - And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art, That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart Be resolute and calm. O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
Page 416 - Nothing could have been worse for the development of my mind than Dr. Butler's school, as it was strictly classical, nothing else being taught, except a little ancient geography and history. The school as a means of education to me was simply a blank.
Page 161 - MIDNIGHT — in no midsummer tune The breakers lash the shores : The cuckoo of a joyless June Is calling out of doors : And thou hast vanish'd from thine own To that which looks like rest, True brother, only to be known By those who love thee best. Midnight — and joyless June gone by, And from the deluged park The cuckoo of a worse July Is calling thro...
Page 121 - tis kindled o' nights With a semblance of flame by the chill Northern Lights. He may rank (Griswold says so) first bard of your nation, (There's no doubt that he stands in supreme ice-olation,) Your topmost Parnassus he may set his heel on, But no warm applauses come, peal following peal on...
Page 162 - ' The dominant charm of all these sonnets is the pervading presence of the writer's personality, never obtruded but always impalpably diffused. The light of a devout, gentle, and kindly spirit, a delicate and graceful fancy, a keen intelligence irradiates these thoughts.
Page 266 - I did not, however, deem myself a competent judge of Carlyle. I felt that he was a poet and that I was not ; that he was a man of intuition, which I was not ; and that as such, he not only saw many things long before me, which I could only when they were pointed out...
Page 370 - Aurelius is not a great writer, a great philosophy-maker ; he is the friend and aider of those who would live in the spirit.

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