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224. oldal - Brimming, and bright, and large ; then sands begin To hem his watery march, and dam his streams, And split his currents; that for many a league The shorn and...
88. oldal - It is too probable that no plan we propose will be adopted. Perhaps another dreadful conflict is to be sustained. If, to please the people, we offer what we ourselves disapprove, how can we afterward defend our work ? Let us raise a standard to which the wise and the honest can repair ; the event is in the hand of God.
223. oldal - Haply, the river of Time As it grows, as the towns on its marge Fling their wavering lights On a wider, statelier stream May acquire, if not the calm Of its early mountainous shore, Yet a solemn peace of its own.
220. oldal - But as, on some far northern strand, Thinking of his own Gods, a Greek In pity and mournful awe might stand Before some fallen Runic stone — For both were faiths, and both are gone. I Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born, With nowhere yet to rest my head, Like these, on earth I wait forlorn.
224. oldal - So, on the bloody sand, Sohrab lay dead; And the great Rustum drew his horseman's cloak Down o'er his face, and sate by his dead son. As those black granite pillars, once...
290. oldal - Yes, for it was not Zeus who gave them forth, "° Nor Justice, dwelling with the Gods below, Who traced these laws for all the sons of men ; Nor did I deem thy edicts strong enough, That thou, a mortal man, should'st over-pass The unwritten laws of God that know not change. They are not of to-day nor yesterday, But live for ever, nor can man assign When first they sprang to being.
229. oldal - in the world they say; Come!' I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the...
448. oldal - When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth.
222. oldal - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.