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Page 76 - ... contempt For any living thing, hath faculties Which he has never used; that thought with him Is in its infancy. The man, whose eye Is ever on himself, doth look on one, The least of nature's works, one who might move The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds Unlawful, ever. O, be wiser thou! Instructed that 'true knowledge leads to love, True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.
Page 15 - I give thee to thy God — the God that gave thee, A wellspring of deep gladness to my heart ! And precious as thou art, And pure as dew of Hermon, He shall have thee, My own, my beautiful, my undefiled, And thou shalt be His child.
Page 20 - AY. thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath ! . When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south ! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks. And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music...
Page 9 - And yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy, Deep thought oft seem'd to fix his infant eye. Dainties he heeded not, nor gaude, nor toy, Save one short pipe of rudest minstrelsy : Silent when glad ; affectionate, though shy ; And now his look was most demurely sad ; And now he laugh'd aloud, yet none knew why. The neighbours stared and sigh'd, yet bless'd the lad ; Some deem'd him wondrous wise, and some believed him mad.
Page 81 - WHEN he, who, from the scourge of wrong, Aroused the Hebrew tribes to fly. Saw the fair region, promised long, And bowed him on the hills to die ; God made his grave, to men unknown, Where Moab's rocks a vale infold, And laid the aged seer alone To slumber while the world grows old. Thus still, whene'er the good and just Close the dim eye on life and pain, Heaven watches o'er their sleeping dust Till the pure spirit comes again. Though nameless, trampled, and forgot, His servant's humble ashes lie,...
Page 76 - If thou be one whose heart the holy forms Of young imagination have kept pure, Stranger ! henceforth be warned ; and know that pride, Howe'er disguised in its own majesty, Is littleness ; that he who feels contempt For any living thing hath faculties Which he has never used, that thought with him Is in its infancy.
Page 49 - Loveliest of lovely things are they, On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
Page i - I see a glimpse of it!" cries he elsewhere: "there is in man a HIGHER than Love of Happiness: he can do without Happiness, and instead thereof find Blessedness! Was it not to preach forth this same HIGHER that sages and martyrs, the Poet and the Priest, in all times, have spoken and suffered; bearing testimony, through life and through death, of the Godlike that is in Man, and how in the Godlike only has he Strength and Freedom?