The Yale Literary Magazine, Volume 86Herrick & Noyes., 1921 |
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BADJETH BAPTISTE beauty BEGGAR BELLOC Bessie Black Orchid Cabell Chinese corner CYRIL HUME dark death door dream Effie emotion eyes F. O. MATTHIESSEN face fear feel felt Fremlip girl GLORIA gods gone gray hair hand HAROLD STARK HARRY Haven hear heard heart Helen J. A. THOMAS J. C. SQUIRE James Branch Cabell JAPTHETH John Masefield Jurgen knew laughed laughter light little women live looked Masefield MAXWELL E modern Montlarm moon never night once passed perhaps poem poet poetry Purple Bird RICHARD PILLSBURY GALE RIGAUD Roger seemed shadows silence sitting smiled song soul sound stars stood strange Street suddenly tell things THOMAS CALDECOT CHUBB thou thought trees turned verse voice wind window wonder Yale Literary Magazine Yale University Yo-Ho young Zeus
Popular passages
Page 223 - The woman named Tomorrow Sits with a hairpin in her teeth And takes her time, And does her hair the way she wants it, And fastens at last the last braid and coil, And puts the hairpin where it belongs, And turns and drawls: "Well, what of it? My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone. What of it? Let the dead be dead.
Page 186 - Stein has aged greatly of late. He feels it himself, and says often that he is "preparing to leave all this; preparing to leave ..." while he waves his hand sadly at his butterflies.
Page 97 - Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration ; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present ; the words which express what they understand not ; the trumpets which sing to battle and feel not what they inspire ; the influence which is moved not, but moves. Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
Page 48 - That gaunt crag To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff! World, World, I cannot get thee close enough! Long have I known a glory in it all, But never knew I this; Here such a passion is As stretcheth me apart, — Lord, I do fear Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year; My soul is all but out of me, — let fall No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.
Page 93 - ... the fret and fever, derision and disaster, that may press in the wake of the strongest passion known to humanity...
Page 97 - Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
Page 11 - Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear.
Page 98 - Save me from my friends, who deem That I care what my creatures say ! Mouth as you list : sneer, rail, blaspheme, O manikin, the livelong day, Not one grief-groan or pleasure-gleam Will you increase or take away. " Why things are thus, whoso derides, May well remain my secret still . . . A fourth dimension, say the guides, To matter is conceivable. Think some such mystery resides Within the ethic of my will.
Page 95 - We must conform!' she said mournfully. 'All the ancient wrath of the Power above us has been vented upon us, His poor creatures, and we must submit. There is no choice. We must. It is no use fighting against God !' 'It is only against man and senseless circumstance,
Page 99 - And to-morrow the whole of me disappears, The truth should be told, and the fact be faced That had best been faced in earlier years : The fact of life with dependence placed On the human heart's resource alone, In brotherhood bonded close and graced With loving-kindness fully blown, And visioned help unsought, unknown.