The Witness of Art, Or the Legend of Beauty

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Hodder and Stoughton, 1876 - 214 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 115 - Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night along the dusky highway, near and nearer drawn, Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn...
الصفحة 130 - 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.
الصفحة 75 - He heard it, but he heeded not, — his eyes Were with his heart, 'and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Daci.an mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday! — All this rushed with his blood. — Shall he expire And unavenged? — Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire!
الصفحة 131 - DAYBREAK A WIND came up out of the sea, And said, " O mists, make room for me." It hailed the ships, and cried, " Sail on, Ye mariners, the night is gone.
الصفحة 168 - The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
الصفحة 129 - But there my triumph's straw-fire flared and funked; Their betters took their turn to see and say: The Prior and the learned pulled a face And stopped all that in no time. "How?
الصفحة 129 - Paint the soul, never mind the legs and arms! "Rub all out, try at it a second time. "Oh, that white smallish female with the breasts, "She's just my niece . . . Herodias, I would say, — "Who went and danced and got men's heads cut off! "Have it all out!
الصفحة 154 - The dark-grey charger fled: He burst through ranks of fighting men; He sprang o'er heaps of dead. His bridle far out-streaming, His flanks all blood and foam, He sought the southern mountains, The mountains of his home. The pass was steep and rugged, The wolves they howled and whined; But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass, And he left the wolves behind.
الصفحة 194 - I'd follow him ; But oh ! — I'm not a fish-woman, And so I cannot swim. " Alas ! I was not born beneath The Virgin and the Scales, So I must curse my cruel stars, And walk about in Wales.
الصفحة 116 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.

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