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The Poems of Arthur Henry Hallam; Together with His Essay on the Lyrical ...
Arthur Henry Hallam
No preview available - 2013
Adeline Alfred Tennyson Arthur Hallam ARTHUR HENRY HALLAM ballad beauty beloved bless breath bright calm Caudebec and Mailleraie Crown 8vo dark dawn dear deep delight dream earth Edition Eildon Hill eminence eyes face fair fancies Fcap fear feeling flowers GALLIENNE genius gentle faith golden prime green happy Haroun Alraschid hast hath heart Hence hills hope hour human lady light living Loch Katrine looks Lyrical maiden melodious Melrose Abbey methinks Methought mighty mind mood natural art nature never o'er Oriana passion pleasant banks Poems poet poet's poetry pray pure Richard Le Gallienne Roebuck Glen sense sigh silent hills silver plume smile Somersby song SONNET soul spake speak spirit STANZAS Written sweet tale tears tender thee thine things thou art thought thy gentle Thy name Timbuctoo tone truth voice wild word Wordsworth youth
Page 110 - Secondly, his power of embodying himself in ideal characters, or rather moods of character, with such extreme accuracy of adjustment, that the circumstances of the narration seem to have a natural correspondence with the predominant feeling, and, as it were, to be evolved from it by assimilative force. Thirdly, his vivid, picturesque delineation of objects, and the peculiar skill with which he holds all of them fused, to borrow a metaphor from science, in a medium of strong emotion. Fourthly, the...
Page 23 - Soon the solemn mood Of her pure mind kindled through all her frame A permeating fire : wild numbers then She raised, with voice stifled in tremulous sobs Subdued by its own pathos : her fair hands Were bare alone, sweeping from some strange harp Strange symphony, and in their branching veins The eloquent blood told an ineffable tale.
Page 111 - WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow'd back with me, The forward-flowing tide of time ; And many a sheeny summer-morn, Adown the Tigris I was borne, By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold, High-walled gardens green and old ; True Mussulman was I and sworn, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Page xxvi - WHEN on my bed the moonlight falls, I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls; Thy marble bright in dark appears, As slowly steals a silver flame Along the letters of thy name, And o'er the number of thy years.
Page 23 - He dreamed a veiled maid Sate near him, talking in low solemn tones. Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought; its music long, Like woven sounds of streams and breezes, held His inmost sense suspended in its web Of many-coloured woof and shifting hues.
Page 40 - I coveted that Abbey's doom ; For if I thought the early flowers Of our affection may not bloom, Like those green hills through countless hours, Grant me at least a tardy waning, Some pleasure still in age's paining ; Though lines and forms must fade away, Still may old Beauty share the empire of Decay ! IV.
Page 78 - The garden trees are busy with the shower That fell ere sunset : now methinks they talk, Lowly and sweetly as befits the hour, One to another down the grassy walk. Hark the laburnum from his opening flower, This...
Page 98 - Undoubtedly the true poet addresses himself, in all his conceptions, to the common nature of us all. Art is a lofty tree, and may shoot up far beyond our grasp, but its roots are in daily life and experience. Every bosom contains the elements of those complex emotions which the artist feels, and every head can, to a certain extent, go over in itself the process of their combination, so as to understand his expressions and sympathize with his state.