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admiration Anto artist beauty better bring brother called character child clear compose criticism deep drama earth effect existence expression eyes fair faith feel felt force genius gift give given grace hand happy hear heart heaven higher honour hope hour human idea interest Italy kind known leave Leon less light literature live look Lord means mind nature never noble object once passed passion perfect person picture play pleasure poems poet possess present prince pure receive rich scene seek seems seen sense soul speak spirit sweet Tasso tell tender thee things thou thought touch true truth turn volume whole wish worthy write written youth
Page 81 - Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. 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.
Page 85 - The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a Tropic sky, Might well be dangerous food For him, a Youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of Heaven, And such impetuous blood.
Page 255 - Who comprehends his trust, and to the same Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; And...
Page 81 - Like a poet hidden in the light of thought, singing hymns unbidden till the world is wrought to sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.
Page 33 - Veritate, in my hand, and, kneeling on my knees, devoutly said these words: — ' ' O thou eternal God, Author of the light which now shines upon me, and Giver of all inward illuminations, I do beseech Thee, of Thy infinite goodness, to pardon a greater request than a sinner ought to make ; I am not satisfied enough whether I shall publish this book, De Veritate; if it be for Thy glory, I beseech Thee give me some sign from heaven ; if not, I shall suppress it.
Page 335 - Walked of yore the Master-Singers, chanting rude poetic strains. From remote and sunless suburbs came they to the friendly guild, Building nests in Fame's great temple, as in spouts the swallows build.
Page 97 - All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the western sky, And its peculiar tint of yellow green : And still I gaze — and with how blank an eye...
Page 83 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear: If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Page 167 - ... service with unceasing care, The mind's least generous wish a mendicant For nought but what thy happiness could spare. Speak — though this soft warm heart, once free to hold A thousand tender pleasures, thine and mine, Be left more desolate, more dreary cold Than a forsaken bird's-nest filled with snow 'Mid its own bush of leafless eglantine — Speak, that my torturing doubts their end may know ! TO BR HAYDON, ON SEEING HIS PICTURE OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE ON THE ISLAND OF ST.