Criticisms

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Longman. Brown, and Company, 1848 - 99 Seiten

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Seite 42 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent Mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.
Seite 42 - Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Seite 42 - Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder and eternal foam ? And who commanded (and the silence came) Here let the billows stiffen and have rest...
Seite 44 - Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world ; to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; To hear the roar she sends through all her gates At a safe distance, where the dying sound Falls a soft murmur on the uninjured ear.
Seite 45 - My panting side was charged when I withdrew To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.^ There was I found by one who had himself Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore And in his hands and feet the cruel scars. With gentle force soliciting the darts He drew them forth, and healed and bade me live.
Seite 43 - She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand ; And that for ten long years he wooed The Lady of the Land. I told her how he pined : and ah ! The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own.
Seite 63 - Lo, such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
Seite 44 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Seite 42 - Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy : Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing - there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven ! Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my Heart, awake ! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.
Seite 64 - From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains .Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.

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