When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exEvangeline. Part i. 1. quisite music. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Part i. 3. And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Part ii. 5. God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for this planting.1 The Courtship of Miles Standish, iv. Into a world unknown, — the corner-stone of a nation! 2 Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame.3 Ibid. The Ladder of Saint Augustine. The heights by great men reached and kept The surest pledge of a deathless name Ibid. The Herons of Elmwood. He has singed the beard of the king of Spain.* 1 See Stoughton, page 266. 2 Plymouth rock. The Dutch Picture. 8 I held it truth, with him who sings TENNYSON: In Memoriam, i. 4 Sir Francis Drake entered the harbour of Cadiz, April 19, 1587, and destroyed shipping to the amount of ten thousand tons lading. To use his own expressive phrase, he had "singed the Spanish king's beard."— KNIGHT: Pictorial History of England, vol. iii. p. 215. The love of learning, the sequestered nooks, With useless endeavour Is Sisyphus rolling His stone up the mountain! Morituri Salutamus. The Masque of Pandora. Chorus of the Eumenides. All things come round to him who will but wait.1 Tales of a Wayside Inn. The Student's Tale. Time has laid his hand Upon my heart gently, not smiting it, Hospitality sitting with Gladness. The Golden Legend. iv. Translation from Frithiof's Saga. Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers. Motto, Hyperion. Book i.2 Something the heart must have to cherish, And in itself to ashes burn. Ibid. Book ii Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few in number. Hyperion. Book iv. Chap. viii. 1 See Emerson, page 601. 2 Wer nie sein Brod mit Thränen ass, Auf seinem Bette weinend sass, Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte. GOETHE: Wilhelm Meister, book ii. chap. xiii Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee.1 There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time Kavanagh. In misery.2 Inferno. Canto v. Line 121. JOHN G. WHITTIER. 1807- So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn The glory from his gray hairs gone 1 Quoted from Cotton's "To-morrow." See Genesis xxx. 3. 2 See Chaucer, page 5. In omni adversitate fortunæ, infelicissimum genus est infortunii fuisse felicem (In every adversity of fortune, to have been happy is the most unhappy kind of misfortune).—BOETHIUS: De Consolatione Philosophia, fiber ii. This is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been!" Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores. The hope of all who suffer, Maud Muller. Snow Bound. The Mantle of St. John de Matha. I know not where His islands lift Beyond His love and care. The Eternal Goodness. SALMON P. CHASE. 1808-1873. The Constitution, in all its provisions, looks to an indestructible Union composed of indestructible States. Decision in Texas v. White, 7 Wallace, 725. No more slave States; no slave Territories. Platform of the Free Soil National Convention, 1848. The way to resumption is to resume. Letter to Horace Greeley, March 17, 1866 SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH. 1808- My country, 't is of thee, Of thee I sing : Land where my fathers died, Let freedom ring. National Hymn Our fathers' God, to thee, To thee I sing; Long may our land be bright National Hymn. ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 1809-1861. There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb With tears and laughter for all time! And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine. A Vision of Poets. Ibid. And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Knowledge by suffering entereth, Ibid. Ibid. Conclusion. Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west. Toll slowly. And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness, Round our restlessness His rest. Rhyme of the Duchess. Or from Browning some "Pomegranate," which if cut deep down the middle Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined human ity. Lady Geraldine's Courtship. xli. But since he had The genius to be loved, why let him have Crowned and buried. xxvii. |