An Address Delivered Before the Association of the Alumni of Harvard College: By Robert C. Winthrop. July 22, 1852

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J. Bartlett, 1852 - Education, Humanistic - 59 pages
 

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Page 10 - O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! O first created beam, and thou great Word, Let there be light, and light was over all; Why am I thus bereaved thy prime decree?
Page 9 - Rather let prudence and temper come first from this side. I will undertake for America that she will follow the example.
Page 46 - Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
Page 13 - Spiritus intus alit: totamque infusa per artus ' Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet ' Inde hominum pecudumque genus vitaeque volantum ' Et quae marmoreo fert monstra sub aequore pontus.
Page 7 - Rapt in celestial transport they ; Yet hither oft a glance from high They send of tender sympathy To bless the place, where on their opening soul First the genuine ardour stole.
Page 39 - What shall I do to be forever known, And make the age to come my own?
Page 46 - But the fallen ruins of another's fame ; Then teach me, Heaven ! to scorn the guilty bays; Drive from my breast that wretched lust of praise ; Unblemish'd let me live or die unknown ; Oh, grant an honest fame, or grant me none !
Page 46 - I am drawing near to the close of my career ; I am fast shuffling off the stage. I have been perhaps the most voluminous author of the day ; and it is a comfort to me to think that I have tried to unsettle no man's faith, to corrupt no man's principle, and that I have written nothing which on my deathbed I should wish blotted.
Page 37 - ... that giants, magicians, fairies, and heroes of romance which succeeded, had exhausted the portion of credulity which belonged to their age; that now nothing was left to...
Page 3 - Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe All that I am in arts, all that I know, (How nothing's that?) to whom my country owes The great renown, and name wherewith she goes.

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