Essays

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Macmillan, 1858 - 336 pagini

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Pagina 138 - Ah ! need I say, dear Friend ! that to the brim My heart was full; I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me ; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit.
Pagina 115 - Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong, They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Pagina 41 - Dry clash' d his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Pagina 71 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Pagina 147 - Then it was—- Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good ! — That the beloved Sister in whose sight Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice Of sudden admonition — like a brook That did but cross a lonely road, and now Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every turn, Companion never lost through many a league — Maintained for me a saving intercourse With my true self...
Pagina 73 - Or to burst all links of habit — there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day. Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise.
Pagina 127 - A plastic power Abode with me; a forming hand, at times Rebellious, acting in a devious mood; A local spirit of his own, at war With general tendency, but, for the most, Subservient strictly to external things With which it communed.
Pagina 57 - Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it In sound of funeral or of marriage bells ; And, sitting muffled in dark leaves, you hear The windy clanging of the minster clock ; Although between it and the garden lies A league of grass...
Pagina 71 - Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.
Pagina 39 - Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice...

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