Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 стор. |
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Сторінка 4
... lines of the Phenomena- Τοῦ γὰρ καὶ γένος ἐσμέν , " We are also of his offspring ; " showing that even the Greek poets had taught that the human race was in some mysterious way bound to the All 4 Poets in the Pulpit .
... lines of the Phenomena- Τοῦ γὰρ καὶ γένος ἐσμέν , " We are also of his offspring ; " showing that even the Greek poets had taught that the human race was in some mysterious way bound to the All 4 Poets in the Pulpit .
Сторінка 4
... lines of the Phenomena- Τοῦ γὰρ καὶ γένος ἐσμέν , " We are also of his offspring ; " showing that even the Greek poets had taught that the human race was in some mysterious way bound to the All 4 . Poets in the Pulpit .
... lines of the Phenomena- Τοῦ γὰρ καὶ γένος ἐσμέν , " We are also of his offspring ; " showing that even the Greek poets had taught that the human race was in some mysterious way bound to the All 4 . Poets in the Pulpit .
Сторінка 7
... human beings , which has made him the minister of hope and the stay of faith in this ar- tificial and doubt - tossed age . Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is still living . He is seventy - three years ( 1880 ) old , being born in 1807 , at ...
... human beings , which has made him the minister of hope and the stay of faith in this ar- tificial and doubt - tossed age . Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is still living . He is seventy - three years ( 1880 ) old , being born in 1807 , at ...
Сторінка 39
... human beings in sorrow and joy . His mind is like that sensitive plate , which , steeped in chemicals , retains every gradation of light and shade ; nay , more than this , for the poet reflects the changing hues of emotion as well , and ...
... human beings in sorrow and joy . His mind is like that sensitive plate , which , steeped in chemicals , retains every gradation of light and shade ; nay , more than this , for the poet reflects the changing hues of emotion as well , and ...
Сторінка 46
... human and universal interest , therefore he writes what is true for the ages , " speaks to time and eternity . " " You ask me why , though ill at ease , Within this region I subsist , Whose spirits falter in the mist , And languish for ...
... human and universal interest , therefore he writes what is true for the ages , " speaks to time and eternity . " " You ask me why , though ill at ease , Within this region I subsist , Whose spirits falter in the mist , And languish for ...
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Сторінка 248 - Earth has not anything to show more fair ! Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty. This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning : silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples, lie Open unto the fields and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
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 274 - Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due...
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 275 - 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 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. 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.
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 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 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.