Word: sighteness
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Dates: during 1873-1873
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...must not for a moment lose sight of the fact that we are dealing with France, and that in France everything is perfectly organized, classified, and subordinated, like books in a library, soldiers in camp, or criminals in cells...
...look for consolation into the valley over which Fortune is floating. This is indeed fairy-land. The town reminds you of Durer's times, but the landscape awakens pleasure within you which you yourself are conscious that you have often been on the point of feeling at the sight of such smiling landscapes in reality. But at the same time you are fully aware that your pleasure was never quite this; there was always in your experience something that interfered, and which alone an artist's mind can detect and retain. This valley is by some, for unknown reasons, believed...
...scenes in the Massasoit House on the night after the last regatta pictures anything but a condition of "communion and fellowship" between some of the principal contestants. And is that ambition a laudable one, which allows a Princeton or a Harvard man to be careless of distinction in the sight of his Alma Mater alone, but would spur him on, with the pleasing hope of reading in the various journals of the country, that Smith of Princeton or Harvard took a Greek prize at the intercollegiate contest? We think not, decidedly...
Morning dawns; take an observation, but no land in sight. Night on night succeeds to day on day. Provisions begin to run low in the locker. Freshman suggests eating one another; being small, we object, on the ground that cannibalism is inconsistent with the true spirit of Christianity. At length, land, ho! Breakers; have to wade ashore. Kiss the soil of Cuba. Hunt for tortoise; find hen's-nest in bushes, - eat it (the contents). Tool-chest washed ashore; throw up intrenchments and feel better. Burrow in sand, for fear of wild beasts; do not altogether escape...
...fires with glowing thoughts. But let us not be surprised if the spirit of Poesy visits us but seldom. Practice may improve metre and the combination of words, but the spirit of Poesy, with her mysterious beauty, comes unexpectedly and vanishes quickly. In silence she bursts upon the sight unsought, filling the soul with joy unutterable, awakening melodies of which only a little echo will reach the world, To those souls she especially appears who, in the melancholy of solemn moments, feel the bitterness of all human experiences; then, reaching out towards infinity, longing for a glimpse of that which...