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" There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call death. "
Poets of England and America: Being Selections from the Best Authors of Both ... - Page 12
1853 - 472 pages
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The Intellectual repository for the New Church. (July/Sept. 1817 ..., Volume 27

New Church gen. confer - 640 pages
...part of man—and on his lines we Kew Church people especially prefer to dwell —viz.:— " There is no death! what seems so is transition; This life...of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call death." Finally, let us be careful not to suppress, or ridicule, even unintentionally, but rather encourage,...
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The General Baptist repository, and Missionary observer [afterw.] The ...

1851 - 592 pages
...see but dimly through the mists and vapors; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but dim, funeral tapers, May be heaven's distant lamps. There Is no...breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portals we call Death. She is not dead— the child of our affection— But gone unto that school Where...
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The Children's Magazine and Missionary Repository, Volume 19

Children's literature - 1856 - 1026 pages
...We see but dimly through the mists and vapours ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but dim, funereal tapers, May be heaven's distant lamps. There...our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe...
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Littell's Living Age, Volume 24

American periodicals - 1850 - 642 pages
...disguise. We see out dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but dim funereal tapers May be Heaven's distant lamps. There...breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portals we call Death. She is not dead — the child of our affection — But gone unto that school...
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The Biblical inquirer

322 pages
...Thomas Hood, are in some parts very beautiful. Our readers will thank us for two brief extracts. ' There is no death ! — what seems so is transition ; This...the life elysian, Whose portal we call death.'— LONGFELLOW. ' " To part no more " — they home met now to part no more. 'Yesterday morning my dear,...
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The Literary World, Volume 7

Literature - 1877 - 226 pages
...correspondent must have had in mind the stanza of Longfellow's " Resignation," which reads, — " There is no death : what seems so is transition ; This life...of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call death." — " J. О. Я." Botlnn, writes : " Will you kindly inform me, if possible, through the columns of...
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Littell's Living Age, Volume 21

American periodicals - 1849 - 742 pages
...disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but dim funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There...our affection — But gone unto that school, Where ehe no longer needs our poor protection And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness...
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Echoes of Infant Voices

M. A. H. - Children in literature - 1849 - 160 pages
...oftentimes celestial benedictions We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May...portal we call Death. She is not dead, — the child of oar affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ...
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The Juvenile companion, and Sunday-school hive ..., Volumes 3-4; Volumes 9-10

1856 - 1270 pages
...but dimly through the mists and vapours, Amid these earthly damps, What seem to us but sad, funeral tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There is no...not dead, — the child of our affection, But gone into that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, For Christ himself doth rule. In that...
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Sartain's Union Magazine of Literature and Art, Volumes 4-5

John Seely Hart - Periodicals - 1849 - 934 pages
...We see but dimly through the mista and vapours; Amid these earthly damps What seera to us but dim, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There...the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death. She ie not dead— the child of our affectionBut gone unto that school, Where she no longer needs our poor...
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