Memoires of old friends, extracts from journals and letters, 1835 to 1871, ed. by H.N. Pym, Volume 321

Front Cover
 

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 321 - O eloquent, just, and mighty Death ! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded ; what none hath dared, thou hast done ; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised ; thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hie jacet...
Page 177 - Dreams, books, are each a world ; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good : Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
Page 286 - Why, what should be the fear ? I do not set my life at a pin's fee ; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself ? It waves me forth again : I'll follow it.
Page 302 - BEYOND the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon ; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come. Beyond the blooming and the fading, I shall be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet hope ! Lord, tarry not, but come.
Page 312 - A sacred burden is this life ye bear, Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly; Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly; Fail not for sorrow; falter not for sin; But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.
Page 37 - All were fat; and well they might Be in admirable plight, For one by one, and two by two, He tossed them human hearts to chew Which from his wide cloak he drew.
Page 62 - Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Page 3 - For home he had not: home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polish'd friends And dear relations mingle into bliss.
Page 321 - My eyes are dim with childish tears. My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. Thus fares it still in our decay : And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind.
Page 39 - I was all ear, !(« And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death.

Bibliographic information