The collector: essays on books, newspapers [&c.].

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Page 211 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there. And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 30 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Page 44 - As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be, Built in the old Colonial day, When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitality ; A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay, With weather-stains upon the wall, And stairways worn, and crazy doors, And creaking and uneven floors, And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall.
Page 61 - HIGH is our calling, Friend ! — Creative Art (Whether the instrument of words she use, Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues,) Demands the service of a mind and heart, Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest part, Heroically fashioned — to infuse Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse, While the whole world seems adverse to desert.
Page 214 - When I read the several dates of the tombs, of" some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.
Page 194 - He was bred to the law, which is, in my opinion, one of the first and noblest of human sciences ; a science which does more to quicken and invigorate the understanding, than all the other kinds of learning put together ; but it is not apt, except in persons very happily born, to open and to liberalize the mind exactly in the same proportion.
Page 127 - Friend to my life, (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?
Page 203 - I HEAR the noise about thy keel ; I hear the bell struck in the night ; I see the cabin-window bright ; I see the sailor at the wheel.
Page 44 - A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall, Now somewhat fallen to decay, With weather-stains upon the wall, And stairways worn, and crazy doors, And creaking and uneven floors, And chimneys huge and tiled and tall. A region of repose it seems, A place of slumber and of dreams...
Page 192 - I oft have heard him say how he admired Men of your large profession, that could speak To every cause, and things mere contraries, Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law ; That, with most quick agility, could turn, And return ; make knots, and undo them ; Give forked counsel ; take provoking gold On either hand, and put it up ; these men, He knew, would thrive with their humility.

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