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American Poems: Books: The Children of the Night
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 Home » Books » The Children of the Night

The Children of the Night

  • List Price: $24.99
  • Buy New: $23.64
  • as of 7/24/2014 04:57 EDT details
  • You Save: $1.35 (5%)
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New (8) Used (2) from $23.64
  • Seller:Nevido Books
  • Languages:English (Unknown), English (Original Language), English (Published)
  • Media:Hardcover
  • Number Of Items:1
  • Pages:124
  • Shipping Weight (lbs):0.8
  • Dimensions (in):0.3 x 9.1 x 6
  • Publication Date:April 10, 2009
  • ISBN:1103761005
  • EAN:9781103761005
  • ASIN:1103761005
Availability:Usually ships in 1-2 business days

Editorial Reviews:
Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897 edition. Excerpt: ...In art's complete remembrance: nothing clings For long but laurel to the stricken brow That felt the Muse's finger; nothing less Than hell's fulfilment of the end of things Can blot the star that shines on Paris now. When we can all so excellently give The measure of love's wisdom with a blow,--Why can we not in turn receive it so, And end this murmur for the life we live? And when we do so frantically strive To win strange faith, why do we shun to know That in love's elemental over-glow God's wholeness gleams with light superlative? Oh, brother men, if you have eyes at all, Look at a branchj a bird, a child, a rose,--Or anything God ever made that grows,--Nor let the smallest vision of it slip, Till you can read, as on Belshazzar's wall, The glory of eternal partnership! SUPREMACY There is a drear and lonely tract of hell From all the common gloom removed afar: A flat, sad land it is, where shadows are, Whose lorn estate my verse may never tell. I walked among them and I knew them well: Men I had slandered on life's little star For churls and sluggards; and I knew the scar Upon their brows of woe ineffable. But as I went majestic on my way, Into the dark they vanished, one by one, Till, with a shaft of God's eternal day, The dream of all my glory was undone,--And, with a fool's importunate dismay, I heard the dead men singing in the sun. Look you, Dominie; look you, and listen! Look in my face, first; search every line there; Mark every feature,--chin, lip, and forehead! Look in my eyes, and tell me the lesson You read there; measure my nose, and tell me Where I am wanting! A man's nose, Dominie, Is often the cast of his inward spirit; So mark mine well. But why do you smile so? Pity, or what? Is it written all over, This face of mine, with a...

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