The life of a collegian, Volume 2

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Page 259 - And with them the Being Beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Page 53 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Page 86 - The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till waked and kindled by the master's spell ; And feeling hearts — touch them but rightly — pour A thousand melodies unheard before...
Page 289 - Across the threshold led, And every tear kissed off as soon as shed, His house she enters — there to be a light, Shining within, when all without is night ; A guardian-angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing...
Page 246 - The chords thou wouldst awaken mute. Look on those broken gems that lie Beside those flowers, withering there ; Those leaves were blooming round my lute, Those gems were bright amid my hair. And they may be a sign to tell Of all the ruin love will make : He comes in beauty, and then leaves The hope to fade, the heart to break ! The song died in low sobs.
Page 22 - Chantons ; Sur les maux de la vie Glissons ; Plaisir jamais ne coûte De pleurs ; II sème notre route De fleurs. Oui, portons son délire Partout Le bonheur est de rire De tout ; Pour être aimé des belles. Aimons; Un beau jour changent-elles, Changeons. Déjà l'hiver de l'âge Accourt ; Profitons d'un passage Si court ; L'avenir peut-il être Certain ? Nous finirons peut-être Demain.
Page 210 - E fatto giugular dall' altra gente ; Le crespe chiome d'or puro lucente, , E '1 lampeggiar dell' angelico riso , Che solean far in terra un paradiso , Poca polvere son , che nulla sente : Ed io pur vivo : onde mi doglio e sdegno, Rimaso senza '1 lume ch'amai tanto, In gran fortuna e 'n disarmato legno . Or sia qui fine al mio amoroso canto : Secca è la vena dell' usato ingegno , E la cetera mia rivolta in piauto . SONETTO 252.
Page 53 - ... l'amour cérébral : En vain le jour succède au jour, Ils glissent sans laisser de trace; Dans mon âme rien ne t'efface, O dernier songe de l

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