The Story of Athens: A Record of the Life and Art of the City of the Violet Crown Read in Its Ruins and in the Lives of Great Athenians

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Century, 1902 - 532 pages
 

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Page 420 - May we know what this new doctrine, whereof thou speakest, is? 20 For thou bringest certain strange things to our ears: we would know therefore what these things mean. 21 (For all the Athenians, and strangers which were there, spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or to hear some new thing...
Page 421 - Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man's device.
Page 421 - For as I passed along, and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.
Page 473 - ... which took their rise from her have been wealth in poverty, liberty in bondage, health in sickness, society in solitude? Her power is, indeed, manifested at the bar, in the senate, in the field of battle, in the schools of philosophy. But these are not her glory. Wherever literature consoles sorrow, or assuages pain ; wherever it brings gladness to eyes which fail with wakefulness and tears, and ache for the dark house and the long sleep, — there is exhibited, in its noblest form, the immortal...
Page 305 - Wind, gentle evergreen, to form a shade Around the tomb where Sophocles is laid ; Sweet ivy wind thy boughs, and intertwine With blushing roses and the clustering vine : Thus will thy lasting leaves with beauties hung, Prove grateful emblems of the lays he sung ; Whose soul, exalted like a god of wit, Among the Muses and the Graces writ.
Page 499 - O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows. On old /Egina's rock, and Idra's isle, The god of gladness sheds his parting smile; O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, Though there his altars are no more divine.
Page 499 - SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, ^ Along Morea's hills the setting sun ; Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light ! O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
Page v - Within its cloudy wings with sun fire garlanded, A divine work! Athens diviner yet Gleamed with its crest of columns, on the will Of man, as on a mount of diamond, set; For thou wert, and thine all-creative skill Peopled with forms that mock the eternal dead In marble...
Page 499 - Salamis ! Their azure arches, through the long expanse, More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints along their summits driven Mark his gay course, and own the hues of Heaven ; Till darkly shaded from the land, and deep, Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.
Page 148 - Thermopyls they lie. Oh, death of glory, thus to die ! Their tomb an altar is, their name A mighty heritage of fame. Their dirge is triumph ; cankering rust, And time, that turneth all to dust, That tomb shall never waste nor hide, — The tomb of warriors true and tried. The full-voiced praise of Greece around Lies buried in this sacred mound ; Where Sparta's King, LEONIDAS, In death eternal glory has ! — SIMONIDES XXX.

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