The Literary Digest International Book Review, Volume 2

Front Cover
Clifford Smyth
Funk and Wagnalls Company, 1924
 

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Page 254 - Spite of this flesh to-day I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole ! " As the bird wings and sings, Let us cry "All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul...
Page 91 - Whichever way the wind doth blow, Some heart is glad to have it so ; Then blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows — that wind is best.
Page 332 - Fellow-citizens, we cannot escape history. We of this Congress and this Administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance or insignificance can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.
Page 216 - If two triangles have two sides of the one equal to two sides of the other...
Page 254 - WHEN I was a beggarly boy, And lived in a cellar damp, I had not a friend nor a toy, But I had Aladdin's lamp ; When I could not sleep for the cold, I had fire enough in my brain, And builded, with roofs of gold, My beautiful castles in Spain ! Since then I have toiled day and night, I have money and power good store, But...
Page 274 - I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too...
Page 91 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Page 170 - I love to look on a scene like this, Of wild and careless play, And persuade myself that I am not old, And my locks are not yet gray; For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart, And makes his pulses fly, To catch the thrill of a happy voice, And the light of a pleasant eye.
Page 272 - Crisp everlasting-flowers, Yellow and black, on the graves. Half blind, palsied, in pain, Hither to come, from the streets' Uproar, surely not loath Wast thou, Heine!— to lie Quiet, to ask for closed Shutters, and...
Page 332 - There is a gloom in deep love, as in deep water : there is a silence in it which suspends the foot, and the folded arms and the dejected head are the images it reflects. No voice shakes its surface : the Muses themselves approach it with a tardy and a timid step, and with a low and tremulous and melancholy song.

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