The Monitor, Volum 1

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Joseph Dollard, 1879
 

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Passatges populars

Pàgina 450 - That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come; for all the vales Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Pàgina 282 - A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome...
Pàgina 318 - There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long ; In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
Pàgina 158 - ... mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Pàgina 385 - Parent of thousand wild desires, The savage and the human breast Torments alike with raging fires; With bright, but oft destructive, gleam, Alike o'er all his lightnings fly ; Thy lambent glories only beam Around the fav'rites of the sky.
Pàgina 181 - Lecky has not chosen to deal with events in chronological order, nor does he present the details of personal, party, or military affaire. The work is rather an attempt 'to disengage from the great mass of facts those which relate to the permanent forces of the nation, or which indicate some of the more enduring features of national life...
Pàgina 140 - ABOVE the pines the moon was slowly drifting, The river sang below ; The dim Sierras, far beyond, uplifting Their minarets of snow. The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted The ruddy tints of health On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted In the fierce race for wealth ; Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure A hoarded volume drew, And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure To hear the tale anew. And then, while round them...
Pàgina 318 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, , An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer...
Pàgina 138 - WE are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems.
Pàgina 316 - They fought as they revelled, fast, fiery, and true, And, though victors, they left on the field not a few ; And they, who survived, fought and drank as of yore, But the land of their heart's hope they never saw more ; For in far foreign fields, from Dunkirk to Belgrade, Lie the soldiers and chiefs of The Irish BrigadeFONTENOY.* 1745.

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