Lessons from My Masters, Carlyle, Tennyson and Ruskin

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Harper & brothers, 1879 - 449 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 322 - And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Tho...
الصفحة 315 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill...
الصفحة 315 - Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reckoning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest; Blind mouths!
الصفحة 235 - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range. Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro...
الصفحة 232 - Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts, And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.
الصفحة 267 - There comes no murmur of reply. What is it that will take away my sin, And save me lest I die ?' So when four years were wholly finished She threw her royal robes away. ' Make me a cottage in the vale,' she said,
الصفحة 306 - That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads...
الصفحة 304 - Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho' the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil.
الصفحة 303 - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last ? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
الصفحة 304 - Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world : Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands, Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho...

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