Macmillan's Magazine, Volume 29

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Macmillan and Company, 1874
 

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Page 30 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Page 91 - The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid, the night is still; A single church below the hill Is pealing, folded in the mist. A single peal of bells below, That wakens at this hour of rest A single murmur in the breast, That these are not the bells I know. Like strangers...
Page 91 - The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound: Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate, and now decrease, Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.
Page 91 - Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad...
Page 30 - Excelsior! ,O stay,' the maiden said, ,and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!' A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered with a sigh, Excelsior! ,Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche!
Page 236 - Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high ; So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be: Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky Shoots higher much than he that means a tree.
Page 91 - Mid onward-sloping motions infinite Making for one sure goal. A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand, Left on the shore ; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white.
Page 164 - Soon as she spreads her hand, th' aerial guard Descend, and sit on each important card: First Ariel perch'd upon a Matadore, Then each according to the rank they bore; For sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place.
Page 91 - A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers : To himself he talks; For at eventide, listening earnestly, At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks; Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks Of the mouldering flowers : Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.
Page 164 - What boots the regal circle on his head, His giant limbs, in state unwieldy spread; That long behind he trails his pompous robe, And, of all monarchs, only grasps the globe? The baron now his diamonds pours apace; Th...

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