About Chautauqua: As an Idea, as a Power, and as a Place

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Blade Printing and Paper Company, 1885 - Chautauqua (N.Y.) - 142 pages
 

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Page 127 - Out of an unseen quarry evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he For number or proportion.
Page 135 - The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept. Were toiling upward in the night.
Page 19 - Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: The waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled ; At the voice of thy thunder they hasted away.
Page 124 - Break Thou the bread of life, Dear Lord, to me, As Thou didst break the loaves Beside the sea. Beyond the sacred page I seek Thee, Lord; My spirit pants for Thee, O living Word.
Page 116 - The ghosts of forgotten actions came floating before my sight, And things that I thought were dead things, were alive with a terrible might. And the vision of all my past life was an awful thing to face, Alone with my conscience, sitting in that solemnly silent place.
Page 127 - Parian wreaths; A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate, A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.
Page 15 - It will go on prospering and to prosper. But, if we and our posterity...
Page 11 - When grass-blades stiffen with red battle-dew, Ye deem we choose the victor and the slain : Say, choose we them that shall be leal and true To the heart's longing, the high faith of brain ? Yet there the victory lies, if ye but knew.
Page 15 - famous writers" come up in this century, to be forgotten in the next. But the silver cord of the Bible is not loosed, nor its golden bowl broken, as Time chronicles his tens of centuries passed by.
Page 124 - Day is dying in the west; Heaven is touching earth with rest; Wait and worship while the night Sets her evening lamps alight Through all the sky.

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