Memories and Anecdotes ...: With Sixteen Illustrations

G.P. Putnam's sons, 1915 - 219 pāgines

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Pāgina 192 - I see from my house by the side of the road, By the side of the highway of life, The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife. But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears — Both parts of an infinite plan ; — Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
Pāgina 192 - Let me live in a house by the side of the road Where the race of men go by — They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, Wise, foolish — so am I. Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat, Or hurl the cynic's ban ? Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
Pāgina 124 - I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
Pāgina 113 - THOUGHT is deeper than all speech, Feeling deeper than all thought; Souls to souls can never teach What unto themselves was taught. We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen.
Pāgina 114 - Only when the sun of love Melts the scattered stars of thought, Only when we live above What the dim-eyed world hath taught ; Only when our souls are fed By the fount which gave them birth, And by inspiration led Which they never drew from earth, We, like parted drops of rain, Swelling till they meet and run, Shall be all absorbed again, Melting, flowing into one.
Pāgina 5 - That day of wrath, .that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! HUSH'D is the harp — the Minstrel...
Pāgina 192 - I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead And mountains of wearisome height; That the road passes on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night.
Pāgina 127 - I am dying, Egypt, dying; Hark ! the insulting f oeman's cry. They are coming ! quick, my falchion ! Let me front them ere I die. Ah ! no more amid the battle Shall my heart exulting swell — Isis and Osiris guard thee ! Cleopatra, Rome, farewell!
Pāgina 4 - In reading authors, when you find Bright passages that strike your mind, And which, perhaps, you may have reason To think on at another season, Be not contented with the sight, But take them down in black and white ; Such a respect is wisely shown, As makes another's sense one's own.
Pāgina 127 - As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian ! Glorious sorceress of the Nile, Light the path to Stygian horrors With the splendors of thy smile. Give the Caesar crowns and arches, Let his brow the laurel twine ; I can scorn the Senate's triumphs, Triumphing in love like thine. I am dying, Egypt, dying; Hark ! the insulting foeman's cry.

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