The Literary Emporium, Volumes 1-2

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J.K. Wellman, 1847 - American literature

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Page 198 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Page 376 - Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, " 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more.
Page 106 - Constructed and conceived ? unknown ! this clod Lives surely through some higher energy ; For from itself alone it could not be ! Creator, yes ! Thy wisdom and Thy word Created me ! Thou source of life and good ! Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord...
Page 29 - ... if thou art a lover and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart which now lies cold and still beneath thy feet ; then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back upon thy memory, and knocking dolefully at thy soul...
Page 378 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, — But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press ah nevermore ! Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch!
Page 376 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.
Page 28 - The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal — every other affliction to forget ; but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open — this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude.
Page 28 - No, the love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of the soul. If it has its woes, it has likewise its delights; and when the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of recollection...
Page 370 - And Mordecai walked every day before the court of the women's house, to know how Esther did, and what should become of her.
Page 81 - Blessed of the Lord be his land, for the precious things of heaven, for the dew, and for the deep that coucheth beneath. And for the precious fruits brought forth by the sun ; and for the precious things put forth by the moon ; and for the chief things of the ancient mountains, and for the precious things of the lasting hills...

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