Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 стор. |
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Сторінка 11
... nature , " said a buyer to Turner . No , " replied the master ; " but don't you wish you could ? " ( ( It requires a special cultivated faculty before you can see what the poets and artists can see in outward nature . And it requires ...
... nature , " said a buyer to Turner . No , " replied the master ; " but don't you wish you could ? " ( ( It requires a special cultivated faculty before you can see what the poets and artists can see in outward nature . And it requires ...
Сторінка 12
... nature to nature's God . It is because this faculty is so fresh , this habit so confirmed in Longfellow , that I commend him specially to this busy , hurrying , striving age , over which his sweet temper has gained such a happy ...
... nature to nature's God . It is because this faculty is so fresh , this habit so confirmed in Longfellow , that I commend him specially to this busy , hurrying , striving age , over which his sweet temper has gained such a happy ...
Сторінка 36
... nature ; Wordsworth , mellow with years and wisdom , standing a little apart from the strife of tongues , was yet deeply affected by the new social and political ideas , but sought the calm they could not give in quiet contemplation ...
... nature ; Wordsworth , mellow with years and wisdom , standing a little apart from the strife of tongues , was yet deeply affected by the new social and political ideas , but sought the calm they could not give in quiet contemplation ...
Сторінка 39
... nature . He is here to interpret her mandates , to overhear her secret whispers long before he him- self is overheard of men . His heart beats in time with the universe ; he is one with all nature in praise , and in sympathy with all ...
... nature . He is here to interpret her mandates , to overhear her secret whispers long before he him- self is overheard of men . His heart beats in time with the universe ; he is one with all nature in praise , and in sympathy with all ...
Сторінка 40
... nature . Hear the lone Enone as she watches her beloved pine forests on the dewy slopes of Ida . The scene is sad- dened with her own sad soul ; every object is coloured by the grief and passion of her irreparable loss , as she marks ...
... nature . Hear the lone Enone as she watches her beloved pine forests on the dewy slopes of Ida . The scene is sad- dened with her own sad soul ; every object is coloured by the grief and passion of her irreparable loss , as she marks ...
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Сторінка 21 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Сторінка 18 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Сторінка 275 - Through the dear might of him that walked the waves ; Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing, in their glory move And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Сторінка 16 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Сторінка 237 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright; The bridal of the earth and sky : The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die.
Сторінка 267 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Сторінка 269 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Сторінка 251 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Сторінка 180 - New mercies, each returning day, Hover around us while we pray ; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice.
Сторінка 271 - No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around: The idle spear and shield were high up hung; The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the arme'd throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by 51 TT 52 BOOK SECOND.