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78. oldal - Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
155. oldal - For physic and farces his equal there scarce is— His farces are physic, his physic a farce is.
70. oldal - It was not her time to love: beside, Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little cares. And now was quiet, now astir—- Till God's hand beckoned unawares, And the sweet white brow is all of her. Is it too late then, Evelyn Hope? What, your soul was pure and true, The good stars met in your horoscope, Made you of spirit, fire and dew...
64. oldal - Made and wrote them in a certain volume Dinted with the silver-pointed pencil Else he only used to draw Madonnas : These, the world might view — but one, the volume. Who that one, you ask? Your heart instructs you.
581. oldal - I see the deep's untrampled floor With green and purple sea-weeds strown ; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown ; I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet ! did any heart now share in my emotion.
67. oldal - And I first played the tune all our sheep know, as, one after one, So docile they come to the pen-door till folding be done.
67. oldal - And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair. And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust divine, And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full draught of wine, And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well. How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy!
639. oldal - His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And while he heaven and earth defied Changed his hand, and checked his pride. He chose a mournful Muse Soft pity to infuse : He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood...
70. oldal - No, indeed ! for God above Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love, — I claim you still, for my own love's sake ! Delayed it may be for more lives yet, Thro' worlds I shall traverse, not a few — Much is to learn and much to forget Ere the time be come for taking you.