Indianapolis Medical Journal, Band 13

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Seite 439 - WHENE'ER a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
Seite 206 - Compar'd to that was next her chin (Some bee had stung it newly ;) But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face, I durst no more upon them gaze Than on the sun in July.
Seite 47 - Happy the man - and happy he alone He who can call today his own, He who, secure within, can say 'Tomorrow, do thy worst, for I have lived today: Be fair or foul or rain or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of Fate are mine: Not Heaven itself upon the Past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.
Seite 17 - So he turned and went away in a rage. And his servants came near, and spake unto him, and said, My father, if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it ? how much rather then, when he saith to thee, Wash, and be clean?
Seite 91 - A quarterly digest of advances, discoveries and improvements in the medical and surgical sciences. Edited by Hobart Amory Hare, MD, Professor of Therapeutics and Materia Medica in the Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia.
Seite 136 - I know not what the world will think of my labours, but to myself it seems that I have been but as a child playing on the sea-shore; now finding some pebble rather more polished, and now some shell rather more agreeably variegated than another, while the immense ocean of truth extended itself unexplored before me.
Seite 90 - A TEXT-BOOK OF PHYSIOLOGY: for Medical Students and Physicians. By William H. Howell, Ph. D., MD, LL.
Seite 220 - He took the suffering human race, He read each wound, each weakness clear; And struck his finger on the place, And said : Thou ailest here, and here...
Seite 505 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee...
Seite 508 - Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me; Give the face of earth around And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek the heaven above And the road below me.

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