The Globe: A New Review of World-literature, Society, Religion, Art and Politics, Volume 7W.H. Thorne, 1889 |
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American Anglican Archbishop authority beautiful better Bishop Bourke Cockran called Cardinal Catholic Church Charity Christ Christian civilization clergy Cuba Cuban death divine dogma ecclesiastical editor England English eternal fact faith Father friends Froude genius gifted GLOBE REVIEW glory God's Grace Gregory Gregory Sharpe heart Heathen writers heaven Herbert Spencer Holy honor human ideal Ireland Irish Jehuda Jersey City Jesus Jews Josephus justice Keane land light literary lives Lord Mark Hanna marriage matter mind modern moral nations nature Neal Dow negro never Oxford Oxford Movement persons Philadelphia poet political Pope preach prelates priests Protestant Protestantism Queen race reform religion religious Roman Rome saints Scriptures seems simply so-called soul Spain Spanish speak spirit sweet Talmud things thou thought tion to-day true truth utter Wanamaker WILLIAM HENRY THORNE word York York City
Popular passages
Page 328 - BRIGHT star ! would I were steadfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night. And watching, with eternal lids apart. Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Page 192 - Now, there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles. He was the Christ...
Page 426 - Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance, And grapples with his evil star; Who makes by force his merit known And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne; And moving up from high to higher, Becomes on Fortune's crowning slope The pillar of a people's hope...
Page 325 - KEEN fitful gusts are whispering here and there Among the bushes, half leafless and dry, The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare ; Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn on high, Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair : For I am brimful of the friendliness That in a little cottage I have found ; Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress, And all his love for gentle Lycid' drown'd...
Page 325 - Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn on high, Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair: For I am brimfull of the friendliness That in a little cottage I have found; Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress, And all his love for gentle Lycid...
Page 327 - He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake : And lo ! whose steadfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. And other spirits there are standing apart Upon the forehead of the age to come ; These, these will give the world another heart, And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings ? Listen awhile, ye nations, and be dumb.
Page 446 - And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues.
Page 328 - Yourself — your soul — in pity give me all, Withhold no atom's atom, or I die, Or living on perhaps, your wretched thrall, Forget, in the mist of idle misery, Life's purposes — the palate of my mind Losing its gust, and my ambition blind ! 1819.
Page 322 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise— Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 323 - Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell. But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee, Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind, Whose words are images of thoughts refined, Is my soul's pleasure ; and it sure must be Almost the highest bliss of human-kind, When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.