Gold and Frieze

Capa
James & Webb, 1875 - 108 páginas
 

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Página 50 - Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Página 46 - The frost-line back with tropic heat; And ever, when a louder blast Shook beam and rafter as it passed, The merrier up its roaring draught The great throat of the chimney laughed; The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Página 46 - Shut in from all the world without, We sat the clean-winged hearth about, Content to let the north-wind roar In baffled rage at pane and door, While the red logs before us beat The frost-line back with tropic heat...
Página 20 - Thou art the source and centre of all minds, Their only point of rest, eternal Word ! From thee departing they are lost, and rove At random without honour, hope, or peace. From thee is all that soothes the life of man, His high endeavour, and his glad success, His strength to suffer, and his will to serve.
Página 54 - The point of one white star is quivering still Deep in the orange light of widening morn Beyond the purple mountains : through a chasm Of wind-divided mist the darker lake Reflects it. Now it wanes : it gleams again As the waves fade, and as the burning threads Of woven cloud unravel in pale air. 'Tis lost ! and through yon peaks of cloud-like snow The roseate sunlight quivers.
Página 48 - Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again...
Página 50 - Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain—- Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon?
Página 24 - Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end; Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath, Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward to expire.
Página 48 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! O dread and silent Mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.
Página 23 - The twilight hours, like birds, flew by, As lightly and as free ; Ten thousand stars were in the sky, Ten thousand on the sea : , For every wave with dimpled face, That leaped upon the air, Had caught a star in its embrace And held it trembling there.

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