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aeting aetion Albert Fleming Alma Murray Andrea Andrea del Sarto Aristophanes artist bcen bcing beauty belicve boon Browning Society Browning's Poems character Charles Avison Colombo death dramatic Drowning ealled eannot Euripides expression F. J. Furnivall faet Furnivall give havo heart heaven human interest lifo liko lines lino living Louisa Stevenson lovo lyric Mcetings melody mind Miss Monthly Abstract moro nature painter painting paper Paracelsus passage passion Pauline performanee picture play poet poet's poetic poetry Pompilia poom poot Prof Query remark rhythm Robert Browning scems Session Shelley sheuld Soeicty somo Sordello spirit Strafford thcir thero theso things tho poem tho soul thoir thoso thought thoy tlio truo truth Valence verse verso wero women words writing
Page 156 - ... Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of...
Page 195 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
Page 195 - More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us, to console us, to sustain us. Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry.
Page 100 - Because all I haply can and do, All that I am now, all I hope to be, — Whence comes it save from fortune setting free Body and soul the purpose to pursue, God traced for both ? If fetters, not a few, Of prejudice, convention, fall from me, These shall I bid men — each in his degree Also God-guided — bear, and gayly, too ? But little do or can the best of us : That little is achieved through Liberty.
Page 198 - Great, valiant, pious, good, and clean, Sublime, contemplative, serene, Strong, constant, pleasant, wise! Bright effluence of exceeding grace; Best man! the swiftness and the race, The peril and the prize!
Page 170 - Never to reach the ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing!
Page 68 - That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight : Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.
Page 192 - So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold. Dear dead women, with such hair, too — what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms ? I feel chilly and grown OLD PICTURES IN FLORENCE.
Page 190 - ... cheeks so round and lips so red, — On her neck the small face buoyant, like a bell-flower on its bed, O'er the breast's superb abundance where a man might base his head?