What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Adelaide Amy Macdonald angel arms barouche beautiful blessed bosom breast breath Brighton brother brow called capital punishment Captain cheek child cold cousin daguerreotype dark dear deep delicate divine Edward Lane Elinor Vernon Ellen Eugenie exquisite eyes face faith Faneuil Hall Fanny Kemble father fear feeling flowers gazed genius George George Mason girl glorious glory glowing Grace hair hand happy Harry Harton heart Heaven Henri Henri Leroux honor human song Kate kissed laugh Leroux letter light lips look Loraine loveliness lover Lucy Madeline marriage Mary Miss morning mother mournful nature never night once passed passion poet poetry poor proud replied rose rose-tree Saladin seemed sister smile soft song soon sorrow soul Southworth & Hawes spirit strange sweet tears tenderness thought took truth Undine voice Walter Maynard wife wild woman young
Page 75 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Page 58 - Oh, our Sophocles, the royal. Who was born to monarch's place — And who made the whole world loyal, Less by kingly power than grace. Our Euripides, the human — With his droppings of warm tears ; And his touches of things common, Till they rose to touch the spheres...
Page 60 - Meet, mix, and deepen. All things unto me Shew their dark sides. Somewhere there must be light. Oh ! I feel like a seed in the cold earth ; Quickening at heart, and pining for the air.
Page 322 - A creature not too bright nor good For human nature's daily food — For transient sorrow, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.
Page 55 - What I most prize in woman Is her affections, not her intellect ! The intellect is finite ; but the affections Are infinite, and cannot be exhausted.
Page 121 - It has come over gardens, and the flowers That kissed it are betrayed ; for as it parts, With its invisible fingers, my loose hair, I know it has been trifling with the rose, And stooping to the violet. There is joy For all God's creatures...
Page 58 - And I think of those long mornings Which my thought goes far to seek, When, betwixt the folio's turnings, Solemn flowed the rhythmic Greek. Past the pane, the mountain spreading, Swept the sheep-bell's tinkling noise, While a girlish voice was reading Somewhat low for ai's and oit.
Page 58 - Then what golden hours were for us! While we sat together there, How the white vests of the Chorus Seemed to wave up a live air ! How the Cothurns trod majestic Down the deep Iambic lines ! And the rolling anapaestic Curled, like vapour over shrines!