Lectures and Addresses on Literary and Social Topics, 第 2 卷

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Ticknor and Fields, 1859 - 318页
 

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第242页 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
第177页 - Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
第6页 - And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him, because he gave not God the glory ; and he was eaten of worms, and gave up the ghost.
第172页 - Now o'er the one half-world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep ; now witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.
第193页 - Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly, Not of the stains of her; All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
第172页 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond "Which keeps me pale...
第177页 - May-time's brightest, loveliest dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay. " I saw her upon nearer view, A spirit, yet a woman too...
第152页 - Memory and her siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim, with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
第184页 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea...
第260页 - When I have borne in memory what has tamed Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart When men change swords for ledgers, and desert The student's bower for gold, some fears unnamed I had, my Country — am I to be blamed ? Now, when I think of thee, and what thou art, Verily, in the bottom of my heart, Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed. But dearly must we prize thee; we who find In thee a bulwark for the cause of men...

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