Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 125

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Harper's Magazine Company, 1912 - Literature
Important American periodical dating back to 1850.

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Page 312 - If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame.
Page 30 - It is impossible, by means of inanimate material agency, to derive mechanical effect from any portion of matter by cooling it below the temperature of the coldest of the surrounding objects.
Page 312 - Enthralls the crimson stomacher, A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbands to flow confusedly, A winning wave (deserving note) In the tempestuous petticoat, A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility, Do more bewitch me, than when art Is too precise in every part.
Page 635 - So, Lady Flora, take my lay, And if you find no moral there, Go, look in any glass and say, What moral is in being fair.
Page 312 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Page 461 - I never thought before my death to see Youth's vision thus made perfect. Emily, I love thee; though the world by no thin name Will hide that love from its unvalued shame. Would we two had been twins of the same mother!
Page 312 - Enthrals the crimson stomacher ; A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbons to flow confusedly ; A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat ; A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility ; — Do more bewitch me, than when art Is too precise in every part.
Page 313 - When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there.
Page 713 - Slowly, as one who is old or tired or sick at heart, he rose to his feet, the President of the United States, the commander -in -chief of the army and navy, the hope of his country.
Page 28 - Nor conscious that they know, nor craving more ; While man knows partly but conceives beside, Creeps ever on from fancies to the fact, And in this striving, this converting air Into a solid he may grasp and use, Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts': God is, they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.

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