Turner at the National Gallery and in Mr. Ruskin's collection

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G. Allen, 1902
 

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Pagina 26 - Of Nature's Womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual Circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye Mists and Exhalations, that now rise From Hill or steaming Lake, dusky or grey, Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with Gold, In honour to the World's great Author rise...
Pagina 147 - Her tattered mantle, and her hood of straw ; Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o'er ; The drowsy brood that on her back she bore, Imps, in the barn with mousing...
Pagina 38 - Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? 230 Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste More rich than other climes' fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
Pagina 130 - And then you shall hear the fainting tempest die in the hollow of the night, and you shall see a green halo kindling on the summit of the eastern hills, brighter, brighter yet, till the large white circle of the slow moon is lifted up among the barred clouds, step by step, line by line ; star after star she quenches with her kindling light, setting in their stead an army of pale, penetrable, fleecy wreaths in the heaven, to give light upon the earth, which move together, hand in hand, company by...
Pagina 375 - There are three things that are never satisfied, yea, four things say not, It is enough : The grave; and the barren womb; the earth that is not filled with water; and the fire that saith not, It is enough.
Pagina 145 - The adventurous boy, that asks his little share, And hies from home with many a gossip's prayer, Turns on the neighbouring hill, once more to see The dear abode of peace and privacy...
Pagina 142 - He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore: his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views, At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Pagina 148 - Go, with old Thames, view Chelsea's glorious pile ; And ask the shattered hero, whence his smile? Go, view the splendid domes of Greenwich — Go, And own what raptures from Reflection flow. Hail, noblest structures imaged in the wave ! A nation's grateful tribute to the brave. Hail, blest retreats from war and shipwreck, hail ! That oft arrest the wondering stranger's sail.
Pagina 57 - Ah! thy tent-formed shell is like A soldier's nightly bivouac, alone Amidst a sea of blood but you can join your comrades.
Pagina 295 - Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise ye Winds, that from four Quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye Pines, With every Plant, in sign of Worship wave.

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