The Boston Quarterly Review, Volume 4

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Benjamin H. Greene, 1841 - American literature
 

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p. 438-439 "The law of the oak is in the acorn"

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Page 179 - Talibus orabat dictis, arasque tenebat, Cum sic orsa loqui vates : ' Sate sanguine divom, 125 Tros Anchisiada, facilis descensus Averno ; Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis ; Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, Hoc opus, hie labor est.
Page 427 - tis rough and narrow, And winds with short turns down the precipice. And in its depth there is a mighty rock, Which has, from unimaginable years, Sustained itself with terror and with toil Over a gulf, and with the agony With which it clings seems slowly coming down...
Page 78 - For he who fights and runs away May live to fight another day ; But he who is in battle slain Can never rise and fight again.
Page 392 - My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you...
Page 151 - Remove far from me vanity and lies : give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient for me : lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord 1 or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.
Page 428 - Hark ! the rushing snow ! The sun-awakened avalanche ! whose mass, Thrice sifted by the storm, had gathered there Flake after flake, — in heaven-defying minds As thought by thought is piled, till some great truth Is loosened, and the nations echo round, Shaken to their roots, as do the mountains now.
Page 438 - There is no other name given under heaven among men whereby we must be saved, but the name of Jesus.
Page 226 - Naught doing, saying little, thinking less, To view the leaves, thin dancers upon air, Go eddying round ; and small birds, how they fare, When mother Autumn fills their beaks with corn, Filch'd from the careless Amalthea's horn...
Page 381 - I exempt, however, from these remarks, the distribution among the States of the proceeds of the public lands, and their application to pay the debts of the States, should the States choose so to apply the money.
Page 426 - SPIRITS The pale stars are gone! For the sun, their swift shepherd, To their folds them compelling, In the depths of the dawn, Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing array, and they flee Beyond his blue dwelling, As fawns flee the leopard.

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