The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, 5. köide,1. number

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Charles Wells Moulton
C. W. Moulton, 1893
 

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Page 32 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see — Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be ; Saw the heavens...
Page 29 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd.
Page 31 - In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours, Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers : Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all. " It is the little rift within the lute, That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
Page 4 - mid a storm of huzzas, And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause. With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril's play, He seemed to the whole great army to say, "I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester down to save the day!
Page 29 - Came through the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
Page 31 - In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Page 30 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Page 106 - tis of Thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring.
Page 106 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song ! Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break,— The sound prolong ! Our fathers...
Page 4 - Temple of Fame — There, with the glorious General's name, Be it said in letters both bold and bright : "Here is the steed that saved the day, By carrying Sheridan into the fight, From Winchester — twenty miles away!

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