Benjamin Robert Haydon: correspondence and table-talk, with a memoir by F.W. Haydon, Volume 1

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Chatto and Windus, 1876
 

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Page 366 - And surely your blood of your lives will I require : at the hand of every beast will I require it, and at the hand of man ; at the hand of every man's brother will I require the life of man. Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed : for in the image of God made he man.
Page 297 - Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth For ever, and to noble deeds give birth, Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame, And leave a dead unprofitable name — Finds comfort in himself and in his cause; And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause : This is the happy Warrior ; this is He That every Man in arms should wish to be.
Page 297 - It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his childish thought : Whose high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright...
Page 246 - ... all those odd scratches and marks, which on a close examination, are so observable in Gainsborough's pictures, and which even to experienced painters appear rather the effect of accident than design : this chaos, this uncouth and shapeless appearance, by a kind of magic, at a certain distance assumes form, and all the parts seem to drop into their proper places, so that we can hardly refuse acknowledging the full effect of diligence, under the appearance of chance and hasty negligence.
Page 297 - It is the generous Spirit, who when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought: Whose high endeavours are an inward light That makes the path before him always bright: Who, with a natural instinct to discern What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn...
Page 315 - Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee : In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.
Page 81 - A soul supreme, in each hard instance tried, Above all pain, all anger, and all pride, The rage of power, the blast of public breath, The lust of lucre, and the dread of death.
Page 145 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Page 133 - He had genius, strong passions, quick sensibility, and vehement enthusiasm for the grand and the beautiful. There was something about him which ennobled tergiversation itself. He often went wrong, very wrong. But, to quote the language of Wordsworth , " He still retained, 'Mid such abasement, what he had received From nature, an intense and glowing mind.
Page 180 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.

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