The Prospective Review, Volúmenes3-4

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John Chapman, 1847
 

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Página 223 - Lady ! we receive but what we give, And in our life alone does nature live : Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud ! And would we aught behold, of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah ! from the soul itself must issue forth, A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth...
Página 80 - Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew. So when the sun in bed, Curtained with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave...
Página 78 - With her great Master so to sympathize : It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air, To hide her guilty front with innocent snow ; And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes, Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Página 234 - I call therefore a complete and generous education, that which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war.
Página 225 - He who has once stood beside the grave, to look back upon the companionship which has been for ever closed, feeling how impotent there are the wild love, or the keen sorrow, to give one instant's pleasure to the pulseless heart, or atone in the lowest measure to the departed spirit for the hour of unkindness, will scarcely for the future incur that debt to the heart, which can only be discharged to the 'ust.
Página 99 - Is He a Star ? He breaks the night, Piercing the shades with dawning light ; I know His glories from afar, I know the bright, the morning Star...
Página 234 - I was confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem ; that is, a composition and pattern of the best and honour-ablest things; not presuming to sing high praises of heroic men, or famous cities, unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy.
Página 92 - Then at thy feet, with awful fear, Th' adoring armies fall ; With joy they shrink to nothing there, Before th
Página 84 - Sweet name, in thy each syllable A thousand blest Arabias dwell ; A thousand hills of frankincense ; Mountains of myrrh, and beds of spices, And ten thousand paradises, The soul, that tastes thee, takes from thence. How many unknown worlds there are Of comforts, which thou hast in keeping! How many thousand mercies there In pity's soft lap lie a-sleeping...
Página 74 - ... of that Red Sea into which our enemies had almost driven us. And he that now for haste snatches up a plain ungarnished present as a thankoffering to thee, which could not be deferred in regard of thy so many late deliverances wrought for us one upon another, may then perhaps take up a harp, and sing thee an elaborate song to generations.

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