The Sewanee Review, Nide 5

Etukansi
University of the South, 1897
 

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Sivu 110 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature, Possess it merely.
Sivu 112 - Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity...
Sivu 52 - Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies !— Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is || in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Sivu 208 - I know not whether to marvel more, either that he in that misty time could see so clearly, or that we in this clear age walk so stumblingly after him.
Sivu 214 - I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe; Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain, Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned brain.
Sivu 4 - He died Who was the sire of an immortal strain, Blind, old, and lonely, when his country's pride The priest, the slave, and the liberticide Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite Of lust and blood. He went unterrified Into the gulf of death ; but his clear sprite Yet reigns o'er earth, the third among the Sons of Light.
Sivu 425 - Now I a fourfold vision see And a fourfold vision is given to me ; Tis fourfold in my supreme delight, And threefold in soft Beulah's night, And twofold always. May God us keep From single vision, and Newton's sleep ! I also enclose you some ballads by Mr.
Sivu 207 - ... cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well enchanting skill of music ; and with a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner ; and pretending no more, doth in?
Sivu 156 - Quid sit futurum eras fuge quaerere, et Quem Fors dierum cunque dabit lucro Appone, nec dulces amores Sperne puer neque tu choreas, Donec virenti canities abest Morosa, Nunc et campus et areae...

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