The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine, Volume 14

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Page 364 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, When deep sleep falleth on men, .' Fear came upon me, and trembling, Which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; The hair of my flesh stood up...
Page 281 - Do you remember how we eyed it for weeks before we could make up our minds to the purchase, and had not come to a determination till it was near ten o'clock of the Saturday night, when you set off from Islington, fearing you should be too late — and when the old bookseller with some grumbling opened his shop, and by...
Page 159 - And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that, behold, they spied a band of men ; and they cast the man into the sepulchre of Elisha : and when the man was let down, and touched the bones of Elisha. he revived, and stood up on his feet.
Page 547 - When my Cat and I entertain each other with mutual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who knows but that I make my Cat more sport than she makes me? Shall I conclude her to be simple, that has her time to begin or refuse to play as freely as I myself have? Nay, who knows but that it is a defect of my not understanding her language (for doubtless Cats talk and reason with one another) that we agree no better : and who knows but that she pities me for being no wiser, than to play with her, and...
Page 273 - It has become a common saying, that men of genius are always in advance of their age; which is true. There is something equally true, yet not so common; namely, that, of these men of genius, the best and bravest are in advance not only of their own age, but of every age. As the German prose-poet says, every possible future is behind them.
Page 326 - YES, the Year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared ! Death, with frosty hand and cold, Plucks the old man by the beard, Sorely, — sorely ! The leaves are falling, falling, Solemnly and slow ; Caw ! caw ! the rooks are calling, It is a sound of woe, A sound of woe ! Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll ; They are chanting solemn masses, Singing ; " Pray for this poor soul, Pray, — pray...
Page 364 - Behold, he put no trust in his servants; and his angels he charged with folly: How much less in them that dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the moth?
Page 72 - The sylvan floor is bathed in gold: Low sprouts and herbs, before unseen, Display their shades of brown and green Tints brighten o'er the velvet moss, Gleams twinkle on the laurel's gloss; The robin, brooding in her nest, Chirps as the quick ray strikes her breast And, as my shadow prints the ground, I see the rabbit upward bound; With pointed ears an instant look; Then scamper to the darkest nook, Where, with crouched limb and staring eye, He watches while I saunter by.
Page 362 - Already the grass shoots forth. The waters leap with thrilling pulse through the veins of the earth ; the sap through the veins of the plants and trees ; and the blood through the veins of man. What a thrill of delight in Spring-time ! What a joy in being and moving ! Men are at work in gardens ; and in the air there is an odour of the fresh earth.
Page 326 - And the hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain, And patter their doleful prayers; — But their prayers are all in vain, All in vain...

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