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appear artist beauty become called character charm close Coleridge colour couplet course criticism death delightful desire drawing Edition effect English Essays evidence expression eyes face fact feeling figures force genius George give hand head heart heaven hope human imagination interest Italy kind lady leave less letters light lines literature lives look Manchester matter means mind mountains nature never night once painting passed past pastel perhaps picture poems poet poetry poor present Quaker regard seems seen sense side song soul sound speak spirit stands story strange Street suggestion sweet tell things thou thought tion true turn verse whole write young
Seite 57 - In the first rank of these did Zimri stand ;* A man so various, that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts, and nothing long...
Seite 61 - Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door, Pillow and bobbins all her little store; Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay, Shuffling her threads about the live-long day, Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light...
Seite 78 - What the hammer ? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain ? What the anvil ? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see ? Did he who made the lamb make thee...
Seite 78 - I am black, as if bereav'd of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And, pointing to the east, began to say: "Look on the rising sun — there God does live, And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noon day.
Seite 258 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Seite 64 - SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, ^ Along Morea's hills the setting sun ; Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light ! O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
Seite 349 - I am in earnest. I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch. AND I WILL BE HEARD.
Seite 55 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Seite 252 - Sometimes a-dropping from the sky, I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are. How they seemed to fill the sea and air, With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments. Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song That makes the heavens be mute.