Poets in the PulpitSampson, Law, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1880 - 291 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 31–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 21
... thou art , to dust returnest , " Was not spoken of the soul . Not enjoyment , and not sorrow , Is our destined end or way ; But to act that each to - morrow Finds us farther than to - day . Art is long , and time is fleeting , And our ...
... thou art , to dust returnest , " Was not spoken of the soul . Not enjoyment , and not sorrow , Is our destined end or way ; But to act that each to - morrow Finds us farther than to - day . Art is long , and time is fleeting , And our ...
Էջ 23
... thou said That of our vices we can frame A ladder , if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame ! All common things — each day's events That with the hour begin and end , Our pleasures and our discontents , Are rounds by ...
... thou said That of our vices we can frame A ladder , if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame ! All common things — each day's events That with the hour begin and end , Our pleasures and our discontents , Are rounds by ...
Էջ 41
... thou learn it , Lest thy heart be put to proof , In the dead unhappy night , and when the rain is on the roof . " II . THE Power OF EXPRESSION . — The second poetic quality is the power of expression ; the poet invents those golden ...
... thou learn it , Lest thy heart be put to proof , In the dead unhappy night , and when the rain is on the roof . " II . THE Power OF EXPRESSION . — The second poetic quality is the power of expression ; the poet invents those golden ...
Էջ 42
... thou listenest the lordly music Flowing from the illimitable years ! " III . WORD - PAINTING . - The third indispen- sable quality is word - painting , or the power of producing to the mind's eye a whole picture , with a few touches ...
... thou listenest the lordly music Flowing from the illimitable years ! " III . WORD - PAINTING . - The third indispen- sable quality is word - painting , or the power of producing to the mind's eye a whole picture , with a few touches ...
Էջ 44
... thou sighing for Lebanon , passage , - Dark cedar , in the long breeze which streams From thy delicious East ? " Sighing for Lebanon ! " the very feeling of Eden comes upon us . Or who cannot feel the sea coast and the sea at night in ...
... thou sighing for Lebanon , passage , - Dark cedar , in the long breeze which streams From thy delicious East ? " Sighing for Lebanon ! " the very feeling of Eden comes upon us . Or who cannot feel the sea coast and the sea at night in ...
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Էջ 248 - Earth has not anything to show more fair ! Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty. This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning : silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples, lie Open unto the fields and to the sky, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Էջ 21 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Էջ 18 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Էջ 274 - Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due...
Էջ 16 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Էջ 275 - There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Էջ 237 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright ; The bridal of the earth and sky : The dew shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Էջ 269 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Էջ 267 - That time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Էջ 251 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.