The Museum of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 27
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Page 141 - one half of the world does not know how the other half lives.
Page 167 - The warrant I have of your Honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours, what I have to do is yours, being part in all I have devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your Lordship, to whom I wish long life still lengthened with all happiness. Your Lordship's in all duty, William Shakespeare.
Page 98 - Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel Did famine follow ; whom thou fought'st against Though daintily brought up, with patience more Than savages could suffer : thou didst drink The stale of horses and the gilded puddle Which beasts would cough at...
Page 64 - GENTIAN. THOU blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end.
Page 87 - They were mortal, too, like us: Ah, when we, like them, shall die, May our souls, translated thus, Triumph, reign, and shine on high.
Page 168 - Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Page 64 - Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall. I would that thus, when I shall see The hour of death draw near to me, Hope, blossoming within my heart, May look to heaven as I depart.
Page 137 - Oh, the miller, how he will laugh, When he sees the milldam rise! The jolly old miller, how he will laugh, Till the tears fill both his eyes!' "And some they seized the little winds, That sounded over the hill, And each put a horn into his mouth, And blew so sharp and shrill! "And there...
Page 75 - Oh ! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight...
Page 137 - I've been to the top of the Caldon-Low, The midsummer night to see!" "And what did you see, my Mary, All up on the Caldon-Low?" "I saw the glad sunshine come down, And I saw the merry winds blow.