Rambles of a Naturalist Round Folkestone: With Occasional Papers on the Fauna and Flora of the District, to which are Added Lists of Plants, Lepidoptera, Birds, and Land and Freshwater Shells
J. English, 1880 - 157 стор.
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Сторінка 58 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Сторінка 59 - These beauteous forms, Through a long absence, have not been to me As is a landscape to a blind man's eye : But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart ; And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration...
Сторінка 34 - The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace...
Сторінка 58 - For I have learned To look on Nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still sad music of Humanity! Not harsh, nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue! And I have felt A Presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts! a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused; Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and...
Сторінка 27 - And honey-bees, blacken the clover seas; there are none of you glad as I. The leaves laugh low in the wind, laugh low with the wind at play, And the odorous call of the flowers all entices my soul away!
Сторінка 59 - For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Сторінка 17 - I cannot tell how the truth may be : I say the tale as 'twas said to me.
Сторінка 35 - That he shouts with his sister at play! 0 well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But 0 for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!