Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 стор. |
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Сторінка 5
... political ruler , as he even now is seldom without direct or indirect political influence . Isaiah was a statesman and popular leader ; David , sweet psalmist , was poet and prophet , as well as king . Think of the vast political and ...
... political ruler , as he even now is seldom without direct or indirect political influence . Isaiah was a statesman and popular leader ; David , sweet psalmist , was poet and prophet , as well as king . Think of the vast political and ...
Сторінка 35
... political , social , and intellectual , as well as the poetical and spiritual , movements of the nineteenth century ... politics and religion . In 1830 the revolution broke out in Paris , and D 2.
... political , social , and intellectual , as well as the poetical and spiritual , movements of the nineteenth century ... politics and religion . In 1830 the revolution broke out in Paris , and D 2.
Сторінка 36
... political ideas , but sought the calm they could not give in quiet contemplation ; and with an eye turned now upon the fair sky , and sea , and earth , and now inwardly upon the panorama of the soul , uttered thoughts so high , and ...
... political ideas , but sought the calm they could not give in quiet contemplation ; and with an eye turned now upon the fair sky , and sea , and earth , and now inwardly upon the panorama of the soul , uttered thoughts so high , and ...
Сторінка 53
... political , and social views when differing from our own . It is just for want of seeing how people come to think and feel thus and thus , that sectarians in Church and State bite and devour one another . No one can understand his ...
... political , and social views when differing from our own . It is just for want of seeing how people come to think and feel thus and thus , that sectarians in Church and State bite and devour one another . No one can understand his ...
Сторінка 72
... political virtues ; all has gone down in the great charnel - house of ruined appetites , and the man has lost faith in everything worth living for . Then follow the ghastly pleasantry , and the free cynical rant of a worn - out ...
... political virtues ; all has gone down in the great charnel - house of ruined appetites , and the man has lost faith in everything worth living for . Then follow the ghastly pleasantry , and the free cynical rant of a worn - out ...
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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.