The Vassar Miscellany, Volume 2

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Vassar College., 1872
 

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Page 106 - When each by turns was guide to each, And Fancy light from Fancy caught, And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech...
Page 106 - Thro' four sweet years arose and fell, From flower to flower, from snow to snow: And we with singing cheer'd the way, And, crown'd with all the season lent, From April on to April went, And glad at heart from May to May: But where the path we...
Page 236 - We shall never know certainly, though it may be that hereafter we shall be able to guess, what science lost through the all but utter neglect of the unusual powers of Mary Fairfax's mind. We may rejoice that, through an accident, she was permitted to reach the position she actually attained ; but there is scarcely a line of her writings which does not, while showing what she was, suggest thoughts of what she might have been. While studying mathematics ' in her own way,' she found a difficulty which...
Page 33 - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven...
Page 221 - HE clasps the crag with crooked hands ; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Page 239 - to inspire the love of truth, of wisdom, of beauty, especially of goodness, the highest beauty," and of that Supreme and Eternal Mind which contains all truth and wisdom, all beauty and goodness.
Page 262 - ... sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel ; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain, A use in measured language lies ; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold ; But that large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more. VI. One writes, that 'Other friends remain,' That ' Loss is common to the...
Page 22 - OF all the myriad moods of mind That through the soul come thronging, Which one was e'er so dear, so kind, So beautiful as Longing ? The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment, Before the Present poor and bare Can make its sneering comment.

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