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Page 628 - He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy; for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instill, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Page 633 - Had swallowed there, when monuments so brave Bore record of their old magnificence. And on the sandy shore, beside the verge Of Ocean, here and there, a rock-hewn fane Resisted in its strength the surf and surge That on their deep foundations beat in vain. In solitude the Ancient Temples stood, Once resonant with instrument and song, And solemn dance of festive multitude ; Now, as the weary ages pass along, Hearing no voice save of the Ocean flood. Which roars for ever on the restless shores ; Or,...
Page 354 - And they took their journey from Elim, and all the congregation of the children of Israel came unto the wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after their departing out of the land of Egypt.
Page 192 - I slowly, grew, Fed by the constant sun and the inconstant dew. The sea-birds build their nests against my root, And eye my slender body's horny case. Widowed within this solitary place Into the thankless sea I cast my fruit ; Joyless I thrive, for no man may partake Of all the store I bear and harvest for his sake. No more I heed the kisses of the morn ; The harsh winds rob me of the life they gave ; I watch my tattered shadow in the wave, And hourly droop and nod my crest forlorn, While all my...
Page 311 - Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Araby the Blest, with such delay Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles...
Page 63 - tis there. But there's a sweeter flower than e'er Blushed on the rosy spray — A brighter star, a richer bloom Than e'er did western heaven illume At close of summer day. Tis Love, the last best gift of Heaven ; Love gentle, holy, pure : But tenderer than a dove's soft eye, The searching sun, the open sky, She never could endure.
Page 62 - Les Alpes, dont je voyais de loin, depuis mon enfance, briller les neiges éternelles, à l'extrémité de l'horizon, du haut de la colline de Milly; la mer, dont les voyageurs et les poètes avaient jeté dans mon esprit tant d'éclatantes images; le ciel italien, dont j'avais, pour ainsi dire, aspiré déjà la chaleur et la sérénité dans les pages de Corinne et dans les vers de Gœthe : Connais-tu cette terre où les myrtes fleurissent?
Page 62 - Voilà les feuilles sans sève Qui tombent sur le gazon ; Voilà le vent qui s'élève Et gémit dans le vallon ; Voilà l'errante hirondelle Qui rase du bout de l'aile L'eau dormante des marais ; Voilà l'enfant des chaumières Qui glane sur les bruyères Le bois tombé des forêts.
Page 76 - He acts upon the principle that if a thing is worth doing at all it is worth doing well : — and the thing that he " does" especially well is the public.
Page 627 - It is the hush of night, and all between Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Mellow'd and mingling, yet distinctly seen, Save darken'd Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more...

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