Peter's Letters to His Kinsfolk, Том 1

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Страница 183 - Urania, I shall need Thy guidance, or a greater Muse, if such Descend to earth or dwell in highest heaven ! For I must tread on shadowy ground, must sink Deep, — and, aloft ascending, breathe in worlds To which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.
Страница 224 - Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But, oh ! she dances such a way— No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
Страница 127 - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Страница 138 - And now a widow, I must mourn The pleasures that will ne'er return; No comfort but a hearty can, When I think on John Highlandman. RECITATIVO A pigmy scraper, wi...
Страница 145 - From that bleak tenement He, many an evening, to his distant home In solitude returning, saw the hills Grow larger in the darkness ; all alone Beheld the stars come out above his head, And travelled through the wood, with no one near To whom he might confess the things he saw.
Страница 184 - Not Chaos, not The darkest pit of lowest Erebus, Nor aught of blinder vacancy — scooped out By help of dreams, can breed such fear and awe As fall upon us often when we look Into our Minds, into the Mind of Man, My haunt, and the main region of my Song.
Страница 115 - Muse's lyre. Not beggar's brat on bulk begot ; Not bastard of a pedlar Scot ; Not boy brought up to cleaning shoes, The spawn of Bridewell or the stews...
Страница 145 - He had small need of books ; for many a tale Traditionary, round the mountains hung, And many a legend, peopling the dark woods, Nourished Imagination in her growth, And gave the Mind that apprehensive power By which she is made quick to recognise The moral properties and scope of things.
Страница 119 - Compound for sins they are inclined to By damning those they have no mind to.
Страница 130 - In complexion, he is the best specimen I have ever seen of the genuine or ideal Goth. His hair is of the true Sicambrian yellow ; his eyes are of the lightest, and at the same time of the clearest blue ; and the blood glows in his cheek with as firm a fervour as it did, according to the description of Jornandes, in those of the " Bello gaudentes, prselio ridentes Teutones

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