Queen's Quarterly, 30 tomas

Priekinis viršelis
Quarterly Committee of Queen's University., 1923

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379 psl. - Poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the same time, to throw over them a certain colouring of imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect...
387 psl. - We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
375 psl. - The business of a poet," said Imlac, " is to examine, not the individual, but the species; to remark general properties and large appearances; he does not number the streaks of the tulip, or describe the different shades in the verdure of the forest.
86 psl. - They're all gone now, and there isn't anything more the sea can do to me. . . . I'll have no call now to be up crying and praying when the wind breaks from the south, and you can hear the surf is in the east, and the surf is in the west, making a great stir with the two noises, and they hitting one on the other.
379 psl. - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
377 psl. - If the time should ever come when what is now called science, thus familiarised to men, shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the poet will lend his divine spirit to aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the being thus produced as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man.
14 psl. - It may be said in a general way that the police power extends to all the great public needs. ... It may be put forth in aid of what is sanctioned by usage, or held by the prevailing morality or strong and preponderant opinion to be greatly and immediately necessary to the public welfare.
384 psl. - Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have sat us down to wet Right many a nipperkin! 'But ranged as infantry, And staring face to face, I shot at him as he at me, And killed him in his place. 'I shot him dead because — Because he was my foe, Just so: my foe of course he was: That's clear enough; although 'He thought he'd 'list, perhaps, Off-hand like — just as I — Was out of work — had sold his traps — No other reason why.
379 psl. - Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how straight the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.
376 psl. - Mineralogist, will be as proper objects of the Poet's art as any upon which it can be employed, if the time shall ever come when these things shall be familiar to us, and the relations under which they are contemplated by the followers of these respective sciences shall be manifestly and palpably material to us as enjoying and suffering beings.

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