Reviews, Volume 1

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Methuen, 1908 - 554 páginas
 

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Página 351 - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
Página 309 - I trust is their destiny ? — to console the afflicted; to add sunshine to daylight, by making the happy happier ; to teach the young and the gracious of every age to see, to think, and feel, and, therefore, to become more actively and securely virtuous...
Página 199 - Seasons" does not contain a single new image of external nature; and scarcely presents a familiar one from which it can be .inferred that the eye of the Poet had been steadily fixed upon his object, much less that his feelings had urged him to work upon it in the spirit of genuine imagination.
Página 184 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Página 352 - OR ever the knightly years were gone With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave.
Página 461 - By the skirts of gray forest o'erhung with wild vine; Where the elephant browses at peace in his wood, And the river-horse gambols unscared in the flood, And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will In the fen where the wild ass is drinking his fill.
Página 524 - O lordly flow the Loire and Seine, And loud the dark Durance : But bonnier shine the braes of Tyne Than a' the fields of France ; And the waves of Till that speak sae still Gleam goodlier where they glance.
Página 545 - That the end of life is not action but contemplation — being as distinct ~] from doing — a certain disposition of the mind: is, in some shape or other, the principle of all the higher morality. In poetry, in art, if you enter into their true spirit at all, you touch this principle, in a measure: these, by their very sterility, are a type of beholding for the mere joy of beholding. To treat life in the spirit of art, is to make life a thing in which means and ends are identified: to encourage...
Página 183 - O for a draught of vintage, that hath been Cool'da long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country-green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sun-burnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink and leave the world unseen And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Página 469 - The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle ; with the din...

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