On Writing and Writers

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E. Arnold & Company, 1926 - 221 pages
 

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Page 59 - We have also a more sure word of prophecy; whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts : knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation.
Page 145 - There are no fields of amaranth on this side of the grave; there are no voices, O Rhodope, that are not soon mute, however tuneful; there is no name, with whatever emphasis of passionate love repeated, of which the echo is not faint at last.
Page 197 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Page 145 - There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, And— every — single — one — of — them — is — right!
Page 88 - Sun, and sky, and breeze, and solitary walks, and summer holidays, and the greenness of fields, and the delicious juices of meats and fishes, and society, and the cheerful glass, and candlelight, and fireside conversations, and innocent vanities, and jests, and irony itself — do these things go out with life?
Page 143 - I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart. ON DEATH Death stands above me, whispering low I know not what into my ear; Of his strange language all I know Is, there is not a word of fear.
Page 164 - But, Alice, what an hour was that, When after roving in the woods ('Twas April then), I came and sat Below the chestnuts, when their buds Were glistening to the breezy blue...
Page 184 - The charges and the answers of Hastings were first read. The ceremony occupied two whole days, and was rendered less tedious than it would otherwise have been by the silver voice and just emphasis of Cowper, the clerk of the court, a near relation of the amiable poet.
Page 93 - Separate from the pleasure of your company, I don't much care if I never see a mountain in my life. I have passed all my days in London, until I have formed as many and intense local attachments, as any of you mountaineers can have done with 46 dead nature.
Page 144 - WELL I remember how you smiled To see me write your name upon The soft sea-sand— 'O! what a child! You think you're writing upon stone ! ' I have since written what no tide Shall ever wash away, what men Unborn shall read o'er ocean wide And find lanthe's name again.

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