Literary Studies: A Collection of Miscellaneous Essays, Volumes 1-2

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Page 71 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel...
Page 68 - Piety displays Her mouldering roll, the piercing eye explores New manners, and the pomp of elder days, Whence culls the pensive bard his pictur'd stores. Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways Of hoar Antiquity, but strown with flowers.
Page 63 - SLEEP, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings, Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings, Sole comforter of minds with grief...
Page 86 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows, richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.
Page 58 - Come, Sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, The indifferent judge between the high and low!
Page 58 - ... most alone in greatest company, With dearth of words, or answers quite awry, To them that would make speech of speech arise; They deem, and of their doom the rumour flies, That poison foul of bubbling Pride doth lie So in my swelling breast, that only I Fawn on myself, and others do despise; Yet Pride, I think, doth not my soul possess, Which looks too oft in his unflattering glass; But one worse fault — Ambition — I confess, That makes me oft my best friends overpass, Unseen, unheard —...
Page 105 - THERE are no colours in the fairest sky So fair as these. The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.
Page 65 - If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses...
Page 86 - But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embow-ed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
Page 113 - It is, properly, from the elevated mind of France, that the folly of titles has been abolished.

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