Californian Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1

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Californian Publishing Company, 1892 - California
 

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Page 55 - Then shall the lame man leap as an hart and the tongue of the dumb sing, for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.
Page 593 - To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy...
Page 593 - She is coming, my life, my fate ; The red rose cries, ' She is near, she is near ; ' And the white rose weeps, ' She is late ; ' The larkspur listens, ' I hear, I hear ; ' And the lily whispers,
Page 590 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Page 595 - From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue; Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm, With the standards of the peoples plunging through the thunderstorm ; Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.
Page 598 - One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves.
Page 598 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Page 592 - Havelock breaking their way thro' the fell mutineers! Surely the pibroch of Europe is ringing again in our ears ! All on a sudden the garrison utter a jubilant shout, Havelock's glorious Highlanders answer with conquering cheers...
Page 597 - You say, but with no touch of scorn, Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil-born. I know not : one indeed I knew In many a subtle question versed, Who...
Page 26 - Have you ever, when completely awake, had a vivid impression of seeing or being touched by a living being or inanimate object, or of hearing a voice; which impression, so far as you could discover, was not due to any external physical cause?

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