Esthetics

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H. Holt, 1909 - 315 páginas
 

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Página 249 - Remember not, Lord, our offences, nor the offences of our forefathers ; neither take thou vengeance of our sins : spare us, good Lord, spare thy people, whom thou hast redeemed with thy most precious blood, and be not angry with us for ever.
Página 256 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!
Página 264 - OF man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, heavenly Muse...
Página 266 - What passion cannot Music raise and quell ? When Jubal struck the chorded shell His listening brethren stood around. And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so wel1.
Página 259 - ... winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.
Página 14 - The wild brook babbling down the mountain side ; The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ; The hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.
Página 287 - Every man is not a proper champion for truth, nor fit to take up the gauntlet in the cause of verity ; many, from the ignorance of these maxims, and an inconsiderate zeal unto truth, have too rashly charged the troops of error, and remain as trophies unto the enemies of truth.
Página 256 - Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o
Página 269 - Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! XIV Look to the blowing Rose about us — 'Lo, Laughing...
Página 10 - All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.

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