The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 18;Volume 81

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Leavitt, Trow, & Company, 1873
 

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Pagina 474 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth, of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize In Nature and the language of the sense The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
Pagina 298 - There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou — THOU art Being and Breath, And what THOU art may never be destroyed.
Pagina 476 - And soon with this he other matter blended, Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind, But stately in the main ; and, when he ended, I could have laughed myself to scorn to find In that decrepit man so firm a mind.
Pagina 477 - Liberty ! There came a tyrant, and with holy glee Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left ; For, high-souled maid, what sorrow would it be That mountain floods should thunder as before, And ocean bellow from his rocky shore, And neither awful voice be heard by thee...
Pagina 473 - Ah! Then, if mine had been the Painter's hand, To express what then I saw, and add the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream; I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile Amid a world how different from this!
Pagina 473 - One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals • Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Pagina 476 - God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Pagina 566 - While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Pagina 471 - 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...
Pagina 474 - Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent at every turn Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black drizzling crags that spake by the wayside As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream, The unfettered clouds and region of the Heavens, Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light— Were all like workings...

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