The Chautauquan: Organ of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle, Volume 62

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Theodore L. Flood, Frank Chapin Bray
Chautauqua Press, 1911
 

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Page 407 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Page 406 - ... when we build, let us think that we build forever. Let it not be for present delight, nor for present use alone; let it be such work as our descendants will thank us for, and let us think, as we lay stone on stone, that a time is to come when those stones will be held sacred because our hands have touched them, and that men will say as they look upon the labor and wrought substance of them, "See! this our fathers did for us.
Page 188 - Like a tale of little meaning tho' the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil. Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they...
Page 114 - A mind well skilled to find, or forge a fault ; A turn for punning — call it Attic salt ; To JEFFREY go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet : Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a...
Page 114 - Laugh when I laugh, I seek no other fame; The cry is up, and scribblers are my game. Speed, Pegasus ! — ye strains of great and small, Ode, epic, elegy, have at you all!
Page 186 - Night after night, I record predictions that never come to pass, professions that are never fulfilled, explanations that are only meant to mystify. I wallow in words.
Page 114 - Our choir would scarcely be excused Even as a band of raw beginners ; All mercy now must be refused To such a set of croaking sinners. " If David, when his toils were ended, Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his psalms had ne'er descended : In furious mood he would have tore 'em...
Page 406 - For, indeed the greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, or in its gold. Its glory is in its age, and in that deep sense of voicefulness, of stern watching, of mysterious sympathy, nay, even of ap—22— proval or condemnation, which we feel in walls that have long been washed by the passing waves of humanity.
Page 406 - ... and the decline and birth of dynasties, and the changing of the face of the earth, and of the limits of the sea, maintains its sculptured shapeliness for a time insuperable, connects forgotten and following ages with each other, and half constitutes the identity, as it concentrates the sympathy, of nations...
Page 110 - THE poesy of this young Lord belongs to the class which neither gods nor men are said to permit. Indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. His effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they Were so much stagnant water.

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