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Page 101 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
Page 75 - And yet, steeped in sentiment as she lies, spreading her gardens to the moonlight, and whispering from her towers the last enchantments of the Middle Age, who will deny that Oxford, by her ineffable charm, keeps ever calling us nearer to the true goal of all of us, to the ideal, to perfection, — to beauty, in a word, io which is only truth seen from another side?
Page 77 - If a great change is to be made in human affairs, the minds of men will be fitted to it ; the general opinions and feelings will draw that way. Every fear ; every hope will forward it; and t/ien they who persist in opposing this mighty current in human affairs, will appear rather to resist the decrees of Providence itself, than the mere designs of men. They will not be resolute and firm, but perverse and obstinate.
Page 35 - And yet what days were those, Parmenides ! When we were young, when we could number friends In all the Italian cities like ourselves, When with elated hearts we join'd your train. Ye Sun-born Virgins ! on the road of truth. Then we could still enjoy, then neither thought Nor outward things were closed and dead to us But we received the shock of mighty thoughts On simple minds with a pure natural joy; And if the sacred load oppress'd our brain, We had the power to feel the pressure eased, The brow...
Page 102 - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; 11.
Page 40 - WE cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd.
Page 104 - Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born, With nowhere yet to rest my head, Like these, on earth I wait forlorn. Their faith, my tears, the world deride; I come to shed them at their side.
Page 118 - ... position when it seems gained, we have kept up our own communications with the future.
Page 9 - Still thou turnedst, and still Beckonedst the trembler, and still Gavest the weary thy hand. If, in the paths of the world, Stones might have wounded thy feet, Toil or dejection have tried Thy spirit, of that we saw Nothing - to us thou wast still Cheerful, and helpful, and firm!
Page 46 - Desire not that, my father! thou must live: For some are born to do great deeds, and live, As some are born to be obscur'd, and die. Do thou the deeds I die too young to do, And reap a second glory in thine age: Thou art my father, and thy gain is mine. But come: thou seest this great host of men Which follow me; I pray thee, slay not these! Let me entreat for them: what have they done?