The Border magazine, Volume 1

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Nimmo, 1863 - English literature

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Page 301 - For him, in one dear Presence, there exists A virtue which irradiates and exalts Objects through widest intercourse of sense. No outcast he, bewildered and depressed: Along his infant veins are interfused The gravitation and the filial bond Of nature that connect him with the world.
Page 304 - That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star-light thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects, with enduring things — With life and nature — purifying thus The elements of feeling and of thought, And sanctifying, by such discipline, Both pain and fear, until we recognise A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.
Page 236 - Let the righteous smite me ; it shall be a kindness : and let him reprove me ; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break my head: for yet my prayer also shall be in their calamities.
Page 304 - Wisdom and spirit of the universe ! Thou soul that art the eternity of thought, That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion, not in vain By day or star-light thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me The passions that build up our human soul ; Not with the mean and vulgar works of man, But with high objects ; with enduring things, With life...
Page 17 - Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame The sea-born beads that bear his name : Such tales had Whitby's fishers told, And said they might his shape behold, And hear his anvil sound ; A deadened clang, — a huge dim form, Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm And night were closing round.
Page 300 - The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And , as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shape , and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.
Page 136 - Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
Page 301 - Blest the infant Babe, (For with my best conjecture I would trace Our Being's earthly progress,) blest the Babe, Nursed in his Mother's arms, who sinks to sleep Rocked on his Mother's breast; who with his soul Drinks in the feelings of his Mother's eye ! For him, in one dear Presence, there exists A virtue which irradiates and exalts Objects through widest intercourse of sense.
Page 258 - Thus while I ape the measure wild Of tales that charm'd me yet a child, Rude though they be, still with the chime Return the thoughts of early time ; And feelings, roused in life's first day, Glow in the line, and prompt the lay.
Page 302 - Or image unprofaned; and I would stand, If the night blackened with a coming storm, Beneath some rock, listening to notes that are The ghostly language of the ancient earth, Or make their dim abode in distant winds.

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