The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 135

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1925 - American literature

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Page 631 - And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation : Neither shall they say, Lo here ! or, lo there ! for, Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.
Page 203 - The Lord, ye know, is God indeed, Without our aid He did us make: We are His flock, He doth us feed And for his sheep He doth us take.
Page 611 - For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
Page 151 - And the children of Joseph said, The hill is not enough for us : and all the Canaanites that dwell in the land of the valley have chariots of iron, both they who are of Beth-shean and her towns, and they who are of the valley of Jezreel.
Page 301 - Thy shadow, and the darkness of thy steps, And my heart ever gazes on the depth Of thy deep mysteries. I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won from thee, Hoping to still these obstinate questionings Of thee and thine, by forcing some lone ghost Thy messenger, to render up the tale Of what we are. In lone and silent hours, When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness...
Page 633 - And he said unto them, Unto you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are without, all these things are done in parables...
Page 611 - Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine — A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast!
Page 211 - For my own part I would as soon be descended from that heroic little monkey, who braved his dreaded enemy in order to save the life of his keeper; or from that old baboon, who, descending from the mountains, carried away in triumph his young comrade from a crowd of astonished...
Page 611 - TO HELEN HELEN, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome.
Page 216 - Speak gently, Spring, and make no sudden sound; For in my windy valley yesterday I found New-born foxes squirming on the ground — Speak gently. Walk softly, March, forbear the bitter blow; Her feet within a trap, her blood upon the snow, The four little foxes' saw their mother go — Walk softly.

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