Concord Lectures on Philosophy, Comprising Outlines of All the Lectures at the Concord Summer School of Philosophy in 1882: With an Historical Sketch

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Moses King, publisher, 1883 - 168 pages
 

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Page 95 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 64 - Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus.
Page 24 - There is the moral of all human tales ; « 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, First Freedom, and then Glory — when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption, — barbarism at last And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page...
Page 66 - EXPERIENCE THE lords of life, the lords of life, I saw them pass, In their own guise, Like and unlike, Portly and grim, Use and Surprise, Surface and Dream, Succession swift, and spectral Wrong, Temperament without a tongue, And the inventor of the game Omnipresent without name;— Some to see, some to be guessed, They marched from east to west: Little man, least of all, Among the legs of his guardians...
Page 142 - That seeing they may see, and not perceive ; and hearing they may hear, and not understand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins should be forgiven them.
Page 79 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Page 143 - I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth;) such an one caught up to the third heaven.
Page 52 - 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. They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
Page 17 - His was the task and his the lordly gift Our eyes, our hearts, bent earthward, to uplift; He found us chained in Plato's fabled cave, Our faces long averted from the blaze Of Heaven's broad light, and idly turned to gaze On shadows, flitting ceaseless as the wave That dashes ever idly on some isle enchanted; By shadows haunted We sat,— amused in youth, in manhood daunted, In vacant age forlorn,— then slipped within the grave, The same dull chain still clasped around our shroud; These captives,...
Page 129 - It is I.' Then the voice said, 'This house will not hold me and thee;' and the door was not opened. Then went the lover into the desert and fasted and prayed in solitude, and after a year he returned and knocked again at the door; and again the voice asked, 'Who is there?

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