Hours in a Library, Band 2

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Smith, Elder & Company, 1892
 

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Seite 291 - The primal duties shine aloft — like stars ; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man — like flowers.
Seite 272 - The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy ; Or, in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear ! Hip.
Seite 292 - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Seite 307 - 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...
Seite 295 - O Reader ! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader ! you would find A tale in every thing.
Seite 92 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Seite 52 - Where the thin harvest waves its wither'd ears; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war...
Seite 237 - The grand transition, that there lives and works A soul in all things, and that soul is God.
Seite 16 - He gives, He gives the best. Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires, Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient passions and a will resign'd ; For love, which scarce collective man can fill; For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill; For faith, that, panting for a happier seat. Counts death kind Nature's signal of retreat.
Seite 290 - My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred ; For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days 1 heard. " Thus fares it still in our decay ; And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind.

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