The Higher Life in Art: With a Chapter on Hobgoblins by the Great MastersD. Bogue, 1879 - 198 pàgines |
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The Higher Life in Art. With a Chapter on Hobgoblins by the Great Masters Sir Wyke Bayliss Visualització completa - 1879 |
The Higher Life in Art. With a Chapter on Hobgoblins by the Great Masters Sir Wyke Bayliss Visualització completa - 1879 |
The Higher Life in Art: With a Chapter on Hobgoblins by the Great Masters ... Wyke Bayliss Previsualització no disponible - 2017 |
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amongst artist Bayliss better blue cathedral Changelings Charles Kingsley Chartres child church clouds Coleridge colour dado Dante DAVID BOGUE David Cox Dionysius Dionysius the Areopagite Divine English evil eyes face figures flowers Giotto give glory goblins hand hear heart Higher Hobgoblins honour hope Ingoldsby Legends landscape Landscape Art light lives London look Lord Byron master mean ment mind Nature never number twenty paint painter Parisina passion perhaps pink sunsets poem poet Poetry and Art question R. A. PROCTOR Rizpah Royal Academy Ruskin Salisbury Cathedral seen Sennacherib Simon Memmi simple Sissy speak splendour star stone story strong subjective beauty sure sweet teach tears tell tender theme Theology things thought translation Treves true Truth turn verse vision voice walls window WITNESS OF ART words Wordsworth WYKE BAYLISS
Passatges populars
Pàgina 127 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Pàgina 116 - He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.
Pàgina 41 - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that...
Pàgina 136 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
Pàgina 121 - If I' try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart.
Pàgina 120 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.
Pàgina 120 - They climb up into my turret, O'er the arms and back of my chair ; If I try to escape they surround me ; They seem to be everywhere.
Pàgina 136 - And noble arch in proud decay, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers; But one thing want these banks of Rhine, — Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!
Pàgina 62 - Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts : nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts, sir...
Pàgina 174 - I might have sav'd her ; now, she 's gone for ever ! Cordelia, Cordelia ! stay a little. Ha ! What is 't thou say'st ? Her voice was ever soft, Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman.