Anthropological Studies

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Ward and Downey, 1891 - 295 стор.
 

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Сторінка 277 - At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown : He raised a mortal to the skies: She drew an angel down.
Сторінка 119 - With burnish'd neck of verdant gold, erect Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass Floated redundant...
Сторінка 290 - Ay me! I fondly dream — Had ye been there — for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore. The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
Сторінка 269 - Thais led the way To light him to his prey, And like another Helen, fired another Troy! — Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
Сторінка 281 - Now strike the golden lyre again! A louder yet, and yet a louder strain, Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark! the horrid sound Has raised up his head! As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge! revenge!
Сторінка 289 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Сторінка 251 - Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Сторінка 274 - And as for what your brain bewilders, If I can "rid your town of rats Will you give me a thousand guilders?
Сторінка 277 - And make despair and madness please : Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the bliss above. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound. When the full organ joins .the tuneful quire, Th...
Сторінка 251 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.

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