English Literature in the Nineteenth Century: An Essay in CriticismA. Melrose, 1909 - 418 страници |
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Страница 238 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld ; Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Страница 379 - I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes, I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
Страница 210 - My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts ; but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive.
Страница 37 - ... What soul was his, when, from the naked top Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun Rise up, and bathe the world in light ! He looked — Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth And ocean's liquid mass, beneath him lay In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched, And in their silent faces did he read Unutterable love.
Страница 70 - Is lightened ; that serene and blessed mood In which the affections gently lead us on, Until the breath of this corporeal frame, And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul : While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Страница 268 - Ring out the grief that saps the mind For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind.
Страница 233 - The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul?
Страница 67 - 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...
Страница 407 - This spiritual Love acts not nor can exist Without Imagination, which, in truth, Is but another name for absolute power And clearest insight, amplitude of mind, And Reason in her most exalted mood.
Страница 69 - Of aspect more sublime: that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul...