Emerson's Complete Works: Letters and social aims

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1883
 

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Pàgina 269 - And now in age I bud again, After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my only light, It cannot be That I am he, On whom thy tempests fell all night.
Pàgina 50 - A little onward lend thy guiding hand To these dark steps, a little further on; For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade; There I am wont to sit, when any chance Relieves me from my task of servile toil, Daily in the common prison else enjoin'd me, Where I, a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw The air imprison'd also, close and damp, Unwholesome draught.
Pàgina 50 - At her feet he bowed he fell, he lay down at her feet he bowed, he fell where he bowed, there he fell down dead...
Pàgina 184 - If we are fired and guided by these, we know him as a benefactor, and shall return to him as long as he serves us so well. We may like well to know what is Plato's and what is Montesquieu's or Goethe's part, and what thought was always dear to the writer himself; but the worth of the sentences consists in their radiancy and equal aptitude to all intelligence. They fit all our facts like a charm. We respect ourselves the more that we know them. Next to the originator of a good sentence is the first...
Pàgina 50 - Of old hast THOU laid the foundation of the earth : And the heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall perish, but THOU shalt endure : Yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment ; As a vesture shalt THOU change them, and they shall be changed : But THOU art the same, And thy years shall have no end.
Pàgina 88 - I have heard with admiring submission the experience of the lady who declared that " the sense of being perfectly well-dressed gives a feeling of inward tranquillity which religion is powerless to bestow.
Pàgina 95 - Don't say things. What you are stands over you the while, and thunders so that I cannot hear what you say to the contrary.
Pàgina 57 - Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A look that's fastened to the ground, A tongue chained up without a sound! Fountain-heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls! A midnight bell, a parting groan! These are the sounds we feed upon; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley; Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
Pàgina 187 - Most of the classical citations you shall hear or read in the current journals or speeches were not drawn from the originals, but from previous quotations in English books ; and you can easily...
Pàgina 313 - As may express them best ; though what if earth Be but the shadow of heaven, and things therein Each to other like, more than on earth is thought...

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