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Page 36 - IT is a beauteous evening, calm and free ; The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration...
Page 77 - Two voices are there; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains; each a mighty Voice: In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty!
Page 34 - THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed If Thou the spirit give by which I pray : My unassisted heart is barren clay, That of its native self can nothing feed : Of good and pious works Thou art the seed, That quickens only where Thou say'st it may: Unless Thou shew to us Thine own true way No man can find it : Father! Thou must lead.
Page 54 - Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill...
Page 79 - IT is not to be thought of that the Flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed...
Page 31 - But thou, that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation. Meek loveliness is round thee spread — A softness still and holy, The grace of forest charms decayed, And pastoral melancholy.
Page 77 - Inland, within a hollow Vale, I stood, And saw, while sea was calm and air was clear, The Coast of France, the Coast of France how near! Drawn almost into frightful neighbourhood. I shrunk, for verily the barrier flood Was like a Lake, or River bright and fair, A span of waters; yet what power is there! What mightiness for evil and for good!
Page 35 - SURPRISED by joy — impatient as the wind I turned to share the transport — Oh ! with whom But thee deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find. Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind — But how could I forget thee ? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss?
Page 101 - Soft smiles, by human kindness bred! And seemliness complete, that sways Thy courtesies, about thee plays; "With no restraint, but such as springs From quick and eager visitings Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach Of thy few words of English speech: A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife That gives thy gestures grace and life!
Page 81 - Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo, With mighty Nations for his underlings, The great events with which old story rings Seem vain and hollow ; I find nothing great : Nothing is left which I can venerate ; So that a doubt almost within me springs Of Providence, such emptiness at length Seems at the heart of all things.

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