The Yale Literary Magazine, Volume 80Herrick & Noyes., 1914 |
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Page 2
... never think of compelling the general adoption of any creed , however keenly we ourselves believed in it . And yet , we , the up - to - date , the broad - minded , submit , with scarcely more than a murmur to a service which the man of ...
... never think of compelling the general adoption of any creed , however keenly we ourselves believed in it . And yet , we , the up - to - date , the broad - minded , submit , with scarcely more than a murmur to a service which the man of ...
Page 9
... never lost in the community and such is the tradi- tional representation of Blessed John . This no doubt was the crowning stage of the evolution of his human life , the dual condition of fruition and activity . As he says , " God ...
... never lost in the community and such is the tradi- tional representation of Blessed John . This no doubt was the crowning stage of the evolution of his human life , the dual condition of fruition and activity . As he says , " God ...
Page 11
... never aught like man In the span and the depth of his beauty ! " And she sang a happy tune for the answer found so soon Of her Beauty's riddling rune— But where were the Daughters of the Moon ? Oh , the young Gods , the free Gods , they ...
... never aught like man In the span and the depth of his beauty ! " And she sang a happy tune for the answer found so soon Of her Beauty's riddling rune— But where were the Daughters of the Moon ? Oh , the young Gods , the free Gods , they ...
Page 12
... never think of me . I should have known . THE MAN : You know I think you are most beautiful— SYLVIA : Then why did you say my red cloak made me so much more beautiful - if you thought me absolutely beautiful the cloak couldn't have ...
... never think of me . I should have known . THE MAN : You know I think you are most beautiful— SYLVIA : Then why did you say my red cloak made me so much more beautiful - if you thought me absolutely beautiful the cloak couldn't have ...
Page 13
... Never mind , dear , the door is locked . ( The person who is knocking suddenly pushes the door and it flies open . A woman stands in the doorway . ) HUGH ( still holding Sylvia in his arms ) : You might have waited - can't you see that ...
... Never mind , dear , the door is locked . ( The person who is knocking suddenly pushes the door and it flies open . A woman stands in the doorway . ) HUGH ( still holding Sylvia in his arms ) : You might have waited - can't you see that ...
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Popular passages
Page 37 - I shall start a heron soon In the marsh beneath the moon — A wondrous silver heron its inner darkness fledges! I beat forever The fens and the sedges. The pledge is still the same — for all disastrous pledges, All hopes resigned ! My soul still flies above me for the quarry it shall find.
Page 224 - Know you what it is to be a child ? It is to be something very different from the man of to-day. It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters, of baptism...
Page 85 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Page 407 - My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word to make you hear, to make you feel — it is, before all, to make you see.
Page 224 - The universe is his box of toys. He dabbles his fingers in the day-fall. He is gold-dusty with tumbling amidst the stars. He makes bright mischief with the moon. The meteors muzzle their noses in his hand.
Page 224 - They at least are for me, surely for me! I turned me to them very wistfully; But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. "Come then, ye other children, Nature's— share With me...
Page 67 - Lingers and lolls, loth to be done with day: Gifting the long, lean, lanky street And its abounding confluences of being With aspects generous and bland; Making a thousand harnesses to shine As with new ore from some enchanted mine, And every horse's coat so full of sheen He looks new-tailored, and every 'bus feels clean, And never a hansom but is worth the feeing; And every jeweller within the pale Offers a real Arabian Night for sale...
Page 70 - Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate : I am the captain of my soul.
Page 370 - Here, as everywhere, the Unfulfilled Intention, which makes life what it is, was as obvious as it could be among the depraved crowds of a city slum. The leaf was deformed, the curve was crippled, the taper was interrupted ; the lichen ate the vigour of the stalk, and the ivy slowly strangled to death the promising sapling.
Page 224 - ... it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear; it is to turn pumpkins into coaches, and mice into horses, lowness into loftiness, and nothing into everything, for each child has its fairy godmother in its own soul; it is to live in a nutshell and to count yourself the king of infinite space...