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Page 41 - I was confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem...
Page 262 - I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward. Or to burst all links of habit — there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day.
Page 226 - Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Page 179 - What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, Is virtue's prize: A better would you fix?
Page 279 - Yet if some voice that man could trust Should murmur from the narrow house, 'The cheeks drop in; the body bows; Man dies : nor is there hope in dust : ' Might I not say? 'Yet even here, But for one hour, O Love, I strive To keep so sweet a thing alive...
Page 246 - The bare black cliff clang' d round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Page 254 - Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it In sound of funeral or of marriage bells ; And, sitting muffled in dark leaves, you hear The windy clanging of the minster clock ; Although between it and the garden lies A league of grass...
Page 178 - tis the price of toil; The knave deserves it, when he tills the soil, The knave deserves it, when he tempts the main, Where folly fights for kings, or dives for gain. The good man may be weak, be indolent; Nor is his claim to plenty, but content. But grant him riches, your demand is o'er? "No — shall the good want health, the good want power?" Add health and power, and every earthly thing, "Why bounded power? why private? why no king?