A New Spirit of the Age, Band 1

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Richard H. Horne
J. C. Riker, 1844 - 365 Seiten
 

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Seite 202 - Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors, Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not...
Seite 206 - Turn thee, turn thee on thy pillow: get thee to thy rest again. Nay, but Nature brings thee solace; for a tender voice will cry.
Seite 161 - Long time a child, and still a child, when years Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I,— For yet I lived like one not born to die ; A thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears, No hope I needed, and I knew no fears. But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep, and waking, I waked to sleep no more, at once o'ertaking The vanguard of my age, with all arrears Of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man, Nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is grey, For I have lost the race I never ran : A rathe December blights...
Seite 193 - On a poet's lips I slept, Dreaming like a love-adept In the sound his breathing kept. Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses, But feeds on the aerial kisses Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses. He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom, Nor heed nor see what things they be : But from these create he can Forms more real than living man, Nurslings of immortality.
Seite 53 - ... to dive into the depths of dungeons: to plunge into the infection of hospitals ; to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain; to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt; to remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of all men in all countries.
Seite 46 - And now the bell — the bell she had so often heard by night and day, and listened to with solemn pleasure almost as a living voice — rung its remorseless toll for her, so young, so beautiful, so good. Decrepit age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy, poured forth — on crutches, in the pride of strength and health, in the full blush of promise, in the mere dawn of life — to gather round her tomb.
Seite 203 - THERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen, Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine, And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand The lawns and meadow -ledges midway down Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars The long brook falling thro' the clov'n ravine In cataract after cataract to the sea.
Seite 165 - It is always considered as a piece of impertinence in England, if a man of less than two or three thousand a year has any opinions at all upon important subjects...
Seite 355 - We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best.
Seite 305 - You must begone," said Death, " these walks are mine." Love wept and spread his sheeny vans for flight; Yet ere he parted said, " This hour is thine : Thou art the shadow of life, and as the tree Stands in the sun and shadows all beneath, So in the light of great eternity Life eminent creates the shade of death ; The shadow passeth when the tree shall fall, But I shall reign for ever over all.

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