Chats about Books: Poets and Novelists

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C. Scribnerʾs sons, 1883 - 360 pages
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Page 176 - All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Page 102 - All is best, though we oft doubt, What the unsearchable dispose Of highest wisdom brings about, And ever best found in the close.
Page 314 - No need hath such to live as ye name life ; That which began in him when he began Is finished: he hath wrought the purpose through Of what did make him Man. Never shall yearnings torture him, nor sins Stain him, nor ache of earthly joys and woes Invade his safe eternal peace; nor deaths And lives recur. He goes Unto NIRVANA. He is one with life Yet lives not. He is blest, ceasing to be. OM, MANI PADME, OM! the Dewdrop slips Into the shining sea ! This is the doctrine of the KARMA.
Page 94 - Retiring from the popular noise, I seek This unfrequented place to find some ease, Ease to the body some, none to the mind From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging, and present Times past, what once
Page 101 - Come, come, no time for lamentation now, Nor much more cause. Samson hath quit himself Like Samson, and heroicly hath finished A life heroic, on his enemies Fully revenged ; hath left them years of mourning...
Page 305 - The victim's bonds, none staying him, so great His presence was. Then, craving leave, he spake Of life, which all can take but none can give, Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep, Wonderful, dear, and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.
Page 95 - Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Eyeless in Gaza, at the mill with slaves, Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke.
Page 336 - In mathematics he was greater Than Tycho Brahe or Erra Pater ; For he, by geometric scale, Could take the size of pots of ale ; Resolve by sines and tangents straight, If bread or butter wanted weight ; And wisely tell what hour o' th' day The clock does strike by algebra.
Page 174 - Full of hope, and yet of heart-break, Full of all the tender pathos Of the Here and the Hereafter;— Stay and read this rude inscription, Read this Song of Hiawatha!
Page 300 - The veil is rent Which blinded me! I am as all these men Who cry upon their gods and are not heard, Or are not heeded — yet there must be aid! For them and me and all there must be help! Perchance the gods have need of help themselves, Being so feeble that when sad lips cry They cannot save!

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