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Page 164 - As one who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
Page 507 - ... supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Page 519 - I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else, how distinct they say : " Grieve not, my child ; chase all thy fears away...
Page 421 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine : And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Page 239 - ... with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Page 417 - There is a wonderful insight in Heaven's broad and simple sunshine. While we give it credit only for depicting the merest surface, it actually brings out the secret character with a truth that no painter would ever venture upon, even could he detect it.
Page 519 - The world could not have furnished you with a present so acceptable to me as the picture which you have so kindly sent me. I received it the night before last, and viewed it with a trepidation of nerves and spirits somewhat akin to what I should have felt had the dear Original presented herself to my embraces. I kissed it and hung it where it is the last object that I see at night, and, of course, the first on which I open my eyes in the morning.
Page 417 - As when a painter, poring on a face, Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the man Behind it, and so paints him that his face, The shape and colour of a mind and life, Lives for his children, ever at its best And fullest...
Page 225 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet...