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Seite 276 - I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings ; till the little creature was forced to sit down and pant, and stay till the storm was over ; and then it made a...
Seite 169 - To grace where- we are grac'd, and give respect There where we are respected : yet we practise A wilder course, and never bend our eyes On men with pleasure, till they find the way To give us a neglect ; then we, too late, Perceive the loss of what we might have had, And dote to death.
Seite 74 - While through their ranks in silver pride The nether crescent seems to glide ! The slumbering breeze forgets to breathe, The lake is smooth and clear beneath, Where once again the spangled show Descends to meet our eyes below. The grounds which on the right aspire, In dimness from the view retire : The left presents a place of graves, Whose wall the silent water laves.
Seite 82 - Poetry could not answer it ; for, though it embodies all the operations of self, that mighty agent it can never discover. Nor should I ever have found an answer to it, if I had not learnt the meaning of that voice which the Jewish shepherd heard at night proclaiming from a burning bush — ' I AM THAT I AM ! '" Shortly after they reached Mr.
Seite 40 - I cannot even compare them,' he said, 'they are not of the same genus. Poetry is an outgrowth of our own minds; religion is a process by which the soul is re-united to a Being greater than itself, from whom it has been separated ; and, in order to be efficacious, must be devised by that Being. But if by religion you meant devotion, which is unquestionably an effort of the mind, and so far like poetry, I should draw this distinction. Wherever devotion has respect to an object, which the mind has previously...
Seite 131 - tis more easy To tie knots, than unloose them: 'tis a secret That, like a lingering poison, may chance lie Spread in thy veins, and kill thee seven year hence.
Seite 268 - What if some little pain the passage have, That makes frail flesh to fear the bitter wave? Is not short pain well borne, that brings long ease, And lays the soul to sleep in quiet grave? Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life does greatly please.
Seite 74 - ... smooth and clear beneath, Where once again the spangled Show Descends to meet our Eyes below. The Grounds which on the right aspire, In dimness from the View retire: The Left presents a Place of Graves, Whose Wall the silent Water laves. That Steeple guides thy doubtful sight Among the livid gleams of Night. There pass with melancholy State, By all the solemn Heaps of Fate, And think, as softly-sad you tread Above the venerable Dead, Time was, like thee they Life possest, And Time shall be, that...