Letters to an Enthusiast: Being a Series of Letters Addressed to Robert Balmanno, Esq., of New York, 1850-1861

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A.C. McClurg & Company, Publishers, 1902 - 339 pages
 

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Page 59 - MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Page 67 - Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that; The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may — As come it will for a' that — That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a
Page 329 - There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out...
Page 62 - Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 46 - By fortune thrown amid the actors' train, You keep your native dignity of thought; The plaudits that attend you come unsought, As tributes due unto your natural vein. Your tears have passion in them, and a grace Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow ; Your smiles are winds whose ways we cannot trace, That vanish and return we know not how — And please the better from a pensive face, A thoughtful eye, and a reflecting brow.
Page 92 - It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the poor duke's officers. But truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship.
Page 247 - Farewell, dear friend, that smile, that harmless mirth No more shall gladden our domestic hearth, That rising tear with pain forbid to flow Better than words no more assuage our woe, That hand outstretched from small but well-earned store Yield succour to the destitute no more. Yet art thou not all lost, thro...
Page 248 - Yet art thou not all lost : through many an age, With sterling sense and humour, shall thy page Win many an English bosom, pleased to see That old and happier vein revived in thee. This for our earth ; and if with friends we share Our joys in heaven, we hope to meet thee there.
Page 91 - If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend ; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
Page 148 - The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again...

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