The Recreations of Christopher NorthPhillips, 1858 - 307 páginas |
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Adam Morrison beauty beneath bird blessed bosom braes breath bright Brown Bess Christian Christopher North cliffs clouds Cockney cottage creatures Cruachan daugh dead death delight divine dream eagle earth eyes face fear feel feet felt flowers Furness Fells genius glen Glenlivet gloom glory grave green Hamish hand happy head hear heard heart heather heaven hills holy hour human imagination light living Loch look moor Moray Place morning mountains nature never night once parish passion poem poet poetry racter religion round Sabbath Scotland Scottish season seems seen shadow shepherd silent silvan sing sitting sleep smile snow Snowy Owl song soul spirit spring stars strong sublime sugh sunshine sweet tarn tears thee thing thou thought tion trees voice walk whole wild Windermere wings wonder woods words Wordsworth young youth
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Página 220 - Cliffs, chasms, blocks of stone, and the skeletons of old trees — far — far down — and dwindled into specks a thousand creatures of her own kind, stationary, or running to and fro! Was that the sound of the waterfall, or the faint roar of voices ? Is that her native strath ? — and that tuft of trees, does it contain the hut in which stands the cradle of her child ? Never more shall it be rocked by her foot ! Here must she die — and when her breast is exhausted — her baby too. And those...
Página 264 - 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 115 - We opened our eyes, or rather sight came to them when closed, and dream was vision ! Hundreds of creatures, no taller than the crest of the lapwing, and all hanging down their veiled heads, stood in a circle on a green...
Página 186 - ... most joyful of all holy effusions, yet addressed to a Being without passions, is confined to a few modes, and is to be felt rather than expressed. Repentance, trembling in the presence of the judge, is not at leisure for cadences and epithets. Supplication of man to man may diffuse itself through many topics of persuasion ; but supplication to God can only cry for mercy.
Página 105 - In all things that from her sweet influence Might tend to wean him. Therefore with her hues, Her forms, and with the spirit of her forms, He clothed the nakedness of austere truth. While yet he lingered in the rudiments Of science, and among her simplest laws, His triangles, they were the stars of heaven The silent stars ! Oft did he take delight To measure the altitude of some tall crag That is the eagle's birthplace...
Página 88 - And sees, on high, amidst th' encircling groves, From cliff to cliff the foaming torrents shine: While waters, woods, and winds, in concert join, And echo swells the chorus to the skies. Would Edwin this majestic scene resign For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies ? Ah ! no : he better knows great Nature's charms to prize.
Página 183 - Of sentiments purely religious, it will be found that the most simple expression is the most sublime. Poetry loses its lustre and its power, because it is applied to the decoration of something more excellent than itself. All that pious verse can do is to help the memory and delight the ear, and for these purposes it may be very useful ; but it supplies nothing to the mind.
Página 105 - Plain his garb ; Such as might suit a rustic Sire, prepared For sabbath duties ; yet he was a man Whom no one could have passed without remark.
Página 154 - ... trees that once stood at the very head of the glen. Into that corner the snow-drift had not yet forced its way, and he sat down there, with Flora in the cherishing of his embrace, hoping that the warmth of his distracted heart might be felt by her, who was as cold as a corpse. The chill air was somewhat softened by the breath of the huddled flock, and the edge of the cutting wind blunted by the stones. It was a place in which it seemed possible that she might revive, miserable as it was with...
Página 220 - ... than any bird of prey that ever bathed its beak in blood, throttle the fiends that with their heavy wings would fain flap her down the cliffs, and hold up her child, in deliverance, before the eye of the all-seeing God ! 35 No stop, — no stay, — she knew not that she drew her breath.