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Стр. 158 - 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.
Стр. 22 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Стр. 155 - But to return to our own institute; besides these constant exercises at home, there is another opportunity of gaining experience to be won from pleasure itself abroad; in those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature, not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
Стр. 17 - But Quiet to quick bosoms is a Hell, And there hath been thy bane ; there is a fire And motion of the Soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being, but aspire Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore, Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire Of aught but rest ; a fever at the core, Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore.
Стр. 157 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes...
Стр. 246 - WOODMAN, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand — Thy axe shall harm it not! That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea — And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies!
Стр. 223 - I saw the world, and yet I was not seen; My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun; And now I live, and now my life is done!
Стр. 153 - SOME in their discourse desire rather commendation of wit in being able to hold all arguments than of judgment in discerning what is true, as if it were a praise to know what might be said and not what should be thought.
Стр. 112 - Farewell, great painter of mankind ! Who reach'd the noblest point of art, Whose pictured morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the heart. If Genius fire thee, reader, stay, If nature touch thee, drop a tear, If neither move thee — turn away — For Hogarth's honour'd dust lies here.
Стр. 156 - In the motion of the very leaves of spring, in the blue air, there is then found a secret correspondence with our heart. There is eloquence in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks and the rustling of the reeds beside them, which by their inconceivable relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to a dance of breathless rapture, and bring tears of mysterious tenderness to the eyes, like the enthusiasm of patriotic success, or the voice of one beloved singing to you...