Biographical Sketches of Remarkable People: Chiefly from Personal Recollection, with Miscellaneous Papers and Poems

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Simpkin, Marshall & Company, 1873 - 450 стор.
 

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Сторінка 284 - Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.
Сторінка 363 - Nature never did betray The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy : for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is...
Сторінка 301 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Сторінка 310 - I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth, of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize In Nature and the language of the sense The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
Сторінка 94 - THE poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above ; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Сторінка 239 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night — For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave — And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie; My music shows you have your closes — And all must die.
Сторінка 167 - I long for scenes, where man has never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God; And sleep as I in childhood, sweetly slept, Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie, The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.
Сторінка 24 - A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow : Long had I watched the glory moving on O'er the still radiance of the Lake below. Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow .' Even in its very motion there was rest : While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, Wafted the traveller to the beauteous West.
Сторінка 339 - He who surpasses or subdues mankind Must look down on the hate of those below. 400 Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Сторінка 241 - More servants wait on man Than he'll take notice of : in every path He treads down that which doth befriend him When sickness makes him pale and wan. O mighty love ! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him.

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