The Yale Literary Magazine, Volume 47

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Herrick & Noyes, 1882
 

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Page 167 - Now rings the woodland loud and long, The distance takes a lovelier hue, And drowned in yonder living blue The lark becomes a sightless song. Now dance the lights on lawn and lea, The flocks are whiter down the vale, And milkier every milky sail On winding stream or distant sea ; Where now the seamew pipes, or dives In yonder greening gleam, and fly The happy birds, that change...
Page 167 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Page 191 - In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not.
Page 167 - SPRING, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo...
Page 111 - O'er Moscow's towers, that blazed the while, His eagle flag unrolled, — and froze. Here sleeps he now, alone! Not one Of all the kings, whose crowns he gave, Bends o'er his dust; — nor wife nor son Has ever seen or sought his grave.
Page 300 - Will you walk into my parlor ? " said the spider to the fly, "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there." " Oh, no, no," said the little fly, " to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair, can ne'er come down again.
Page 149 - And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown, On nothing we could call our own. Around the glistening wonder bent The blue walls of the firmament, No cloud above, no earth below,— A universe of sky and snow!
Page 158 - Ah! Vanitas Vanitatum! which of us is happy in this world? Which of us has his desire? or, having it, is satisfied? come, children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is played out.
Page 139 - I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Page 150 - A more intense despair or brighter hope to find. Yet here at least an earnest sense Of human right and weal is shown ; A hate of tyranny intense, And hearty in its vehemence, As if my brother's pain and sorrow were my own.

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