Bentley's miscellany

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Page 76 - 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.
Page 577 - The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. 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 noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion.
Page 153 - For physic and farces his equal there scarce is— His farces are physic, his physic a farce is.
Page 65 - Oh, our manhood's prime vigour ! no spirit feels waste, Not a muscle is stopped in its playing, nor sinew unbraced. Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock — The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, — the cool silver shock Of the plunge in a pool's living water, — the hunt of the bear, 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...
Page 635 - 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...
Page 68 - 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.
Page 251 - I read, before my eyelids dropt their shade, 'The Legend of Good Women,' long ago Sung by the morning star of song, who made His music heard below; Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath Preluded those melodious bursts that fill The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still. And, for a while, the knowledge of his art Held me above the subject, as strong gales Hold swollen clouds from raining, tho' my heart, Brimful of those wild tales, Charged both mine eyes with tears.
Page 65 - 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. They are white and untorn by the bushes, for lo, they have fed Where the long grasses stifle the water within the stream's bed; And now one after one seeks its lodging, as star follows star Into eve and the blue far above us, - so blue and so far!
Page 316 - And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art, That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart Be resolute and calm. O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
Page 255 - I TAKE unceasing delight in Chaucer. His manly cheerfulness is especially delicious to me in my old age.* How exquisitely tender he is, and yet how perfectly free from the least touch of sickly melancholy or morbid drooping...

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