Essays and Sketches of Edmund J. ArmstrongLongmans, Green, 1877 - 306 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 39
... lost . ( It is indeed the life of one who lived not for himself or for his own age , but for Eternity and the Eternal . Many men of genius have suffered oblivion to absorb their relation with the Infinite , and have laboured for fame ...
... lost . ( It is indeed the life of one who lived not for himself or for his own age , but for Eternity and the Eternal . Many men of genius have suffered oblivion to absorb their relation with the Infinite , and have laboured for fame ...
الصفحة 50
... lost its lustre ; no longer " in a fine frenzy rolling " as it interpreted the workings of his spirit . His appearance was haggard , ghastly , and languid ; his utterance was an effort and a struggle , with little of the old buoy- ancy ...
... lost its lustre ; no longer " in a fine frenzy rolling " as it interpreted the workings of his spirit . His appearance was haggard , ghastly , and languid ; his utterance was an effort and a struggle , with little of the old buoy- ancy ...
الصفحة 52
... lost wanderer in thought , and menaces him from yellowing wood and quivering leaf , from dying blossom and wave - corroded shore , from " poignant reminiscences of faded power , and sudden intuitions coming and vanishing " as ghosts in ...
... lost wanderer in thought , and menaces him from yellowing wood and quivering leaf , from dying blossom and wave - corroded shore , from " poignant reminiscences of faded power , and sudden intuitions coming and vanishing " as ghosts in ...
الصفحة 58
... lost to us for ever ! For the specimens of his Table - Talk are unconnected fragments , waifs and strays , from which we can form but a feeble and inadequate conception of the bulk and proportions of the original . In April , 1816 ...
... lost to us for ever ! For the specimens of his Table - Talk are unconnected fragments , waifs and strays , from which we can form but a feeble and inadequate conception of the bulk and proportions of the original . In April , 1816 ...
الصفحة 63
... lost traveller still struggled onward , onward , -while his feet were sinking in the devouring sand , and , instead of a bright horizon to cheer him forward , there was nought but blackness before and around . Into the Valley of the ...
... lost traveller still struggled onward , onward , -while his feet were sinking in the devouring sand , and , instead of a bright horizon to cheer him forward , there was nought but blackness before and around . Into the Valley of the ...
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الصفحة 227 - I had so worked upon my imagination as really to believe that about the whole mansion and domain there hung an atmosphere peculiar to themselves and their immediate vicinity, an atmosphere which had no affinity with the air of heaven, but which had reeked up from the decayed trees, and the gray wall, and the silent tarn, a pestilent and mystic vapor, dull, sluggish, faintly discernible, and leaden-hued.
الصفحة 124 - A SLUMBER did my spirit seal ; •^*- I had no human fears : She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force ; She neither hears nor sees ; Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees.
الصفحة 218 - All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand — How few ! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep — while I weep ! O God ! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp ? O God ! can I not save] One from the pitiless wave ? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream ? DREAMLAND.
الصفحة 75 - own exceeding great reward;' it has soothed my afflictions; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.
الصفحة 223 - My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, As it is lasting, so be deep!
الصفحة 63 - He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.
الصفحة 70 - But the sense of musical delight, with the power of producing it, is a gift of imagination ; and this together with the power of reducing multitude into unity of effect, and modifying a series of thoughts by some one predominant thought or feeling, may be cultivated and improved, but can never be learned. It is in these that
الصفحة 53 - ... would suit him best, but continually shifted, in corkscrew fashion, and kept trying both. A heavy-laden, high-aspiring and surely much-suffering man. His voice, naturally soft and good, had contracted itself into a plaintive snuffle and sing-song; he spoke as if preaching, — you would have said, preaching earnestly and also hopelessly the weightiest things. I still recollect his "object
الصفحة 69 - ... rhythm than was demanded by the thoughts, or permitted by the propriety of preserving a sense of melody predominant. The delight in richness and sweetness of sound, even to a faulty excess, if it be evidently original, and not the result of an easily imitable mechanism, I regard as a highly favourable promise in the compositions of a young man. "The man that hath not music in his soul" can indeed never be a genuine poet.
الصفحة 211 - O, lady bright! can it be right — This window open to the night? The wanton airs, from the tree-top, Laughingly through the lattice drop — The bodiless airs, a wizard rout, Flit through thy chamber in and out, And wave the curtain canopy So fitfully — so fearfully — Above the closed and fringed lid...