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afternoon ain't Alcibiades answered asked began big minister boy from Boston Browning Caliban upon Setebos candid girl Catullus Charles Lamb cheerful child Cicero class orator Contrary Young courage creature criticism daimon dark Dark Tower devil's darning-needle Dido dream duty earth emotion England town eyes feel Foolish Woman genius goin grammar heard hearts heaven heroic ical ideal inquired insect knew learned light lived look matter mighty mind moral morning nature never night once one's Paracelsus Parmenides Phaedrus piazza poem poet professor pupils question Rabbi Ben Ezra reader reason recitation remember Robert Browning seemed seven sins snake boy Socrates soul spirit story struggle talk teacher tell temper theologue things thought thrill tion to-day toboggan told tree uncon uncouth lad voice Waterville whole window women youth
Page 162 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood...
Page 13 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence...
Page 128 - I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,' she said. 'Have I not prayed in Heaven?— on earth, Lord, Lord, has he not pray'd?
Page 61 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy ! Shades of the prison house begin to close Upon the growing Boy...
Page 127 - No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.
Page 48 - He, whom we convoy to his grave aloft, Singing together, He was a man born with thy face and throat, Lyric Apollo! Long he lived nameless: how should spring take note Winter would follow? Till lo, the little touch, and youth was gone! Cramped and diminished, Moaned he, "New measures, other feet anon! "My dance is finished?
Page 156 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite, a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 278 - And said, My God forbid it me, that I should do this thing: shall I drink the blood of these men that have put their lives in jeopardy? for with the jeopardy of their lives they brought it.
Page 140 - My life is a fault at last, I fear: It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed. But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up and begin again, — So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.