The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 93

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1904

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Page 250 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence...
Page 342 - Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh', in allen Wipfeln spürest du kaum einen Hauch; die Vögelein schweigen im Walde. Warte nur, balde ruhest du auch.
Page 183 - ... sitting by their studious lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions and ideas wherewith to present as with their homage and their fealty the approaching reformation, others as fast reading, trying all things, assenting to the force of reason and convincement.
Page 717 - The practice of that which is ethically best — what we call goodness or virtue — involves a course of conduct which, in all respects, is opposed to that which leads to success in the cosmic struggle for existence.
Page 698 - Who could resist the charm of that spiritual apparition, gliding in the dim afternoon light through the aisles of St. Mary's, rising into the pulpit, and then, in the most entrancing of voices, breaking the silence with words and thoughts which were a religious music, — subtle, sweet, mournful?
Page 183 - Behold now this vast city: a city of refuge, the mansion house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with his protection ; the shop of war hath not there more anvils and hammers waking, to fashion out the plates and instruments of armed justice in defence of beleaguered truth, than there be pens and heads there, sitting by their studious lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions and ideas...
Page 114 - We sat grown quiet at the name of love; We saw the last embers of daylight die, And in the trembling blue-green of the sky A moon, worn as if it had been a shell Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell About the stars and broke in days and years. I had a thought for no one's but your ears : That you were beautiful, and that I strove To love you in the old high way of love ; That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.
Page 6 - For there is no heroic poem in the world but is at bottom a biography, the life of a man : also, it may be said, there is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.
Page 381 - I give no alms only to satisfy the hunger of my brother, but to fulfil and accomplish the will and command of my God.
Page 343 - ... ,"Go thy ways, and God bless thee, for it is not possible that the son of these tears should perish.

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