Belgravia: A London Magazine, Band 31

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Chatto and Windus, 1877
 

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Seite 197 - The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him ; it was blessedness and love...
Seite 147 - ... we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars : as if we were villains on necessity ; fools by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on.
Seite 197 - Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth And ocean's liquid mass, beneath him lay . In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched, And in their silent faces could he read Unutterable love. Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank The spectacle : sensation, soul, and form All melted into him ; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live ; they were his life.
Seite 200 - The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree ; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me ; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sighed for the dawn and thee.
Seite 136 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant What place this is : and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments ; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night : Do not laugh at me ; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Seite 38 - In those days they shall say no more, "The fathers have eaten a sour grape, and the children's teeth are set on edge." But every one shall die for his own iniquity: every man that eateth the sour grape, his teeth shall be set on edge.
Seite 22 - I cannot blame him : at my nativity The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets ; and at my birth The frame and huge foundation of the earth Shak'd like a coward.
Seite 197 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.
Seite 197 - Such was the boy, but for the growing youth What soul was his, when, from the naked top Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun Rise up, and bathe the world in light...
Seite 427 - The being of another world may have his home in subterranean cities, warmed by central fires ; or in crystal caves, cooled by ocean tides ; or he may float with the Nereids upon the deep; or mount upon wings as eagles ; or rise upon the pinions of the dove, that he may flee away, and be at rest...

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