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Alfoxden appear beautiful better called Carew century Christian Church course death doubt Egypt ence England English eral existence eyes Fabian fact feel friends George Eliot girls give gorse Gounod hand heart Herodotus Hippocleides human Inchbald industry interest kind labor lady land less light living look Lord Lord Melbourne luxury matter Max Müller means ment mind modern molecules moral mother nature Nether Stowey never night once passed perhaps person photospheric poet poor present produced religion Rembrandt Roman Rome round scarab seems sense Shakespeare side Sidney Webb sion social Socialists society speak spirit tain tell things thought tion Titus Andronicus tive told Tom Poole true truth ture wages wealth whole woman women words writing young
Стр. 548 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.
Стр. 132 - CALL it not vain ¡—they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Стр. 469 - Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit; for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God.
Стр. 550 - This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill, cannot be good : — if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth ? I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature...
Стр. 127 - Lines Written in Early Spring I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.
Стр. 129 - ... confidence that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort.
Стр. 227 - But as the marigold at the sun's eye, And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foiled, Is from the book of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.
Стр. 165 - Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong (Between whose endless jar justice resides) Should lose their names, and so should Justice too. Then everything includes itself in power, Power into will, will into appetite ; And appetite, an universal wolf, So doubly seconded with will and power, Must make perforce an universal prey, And last, eat up himself.
Стр. 129 - Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. 'Tis calm indeed ' so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness.
Стр. 165 - In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.