Œuvres: Opuscules 26-29

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Les Belles Lettres, 1812 - Dialogues, Greek


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Page 188 - He tugged, he shook, till down they came, and drew The whole roof after them with burst of thunder Upon the heads of all who sat beneath, Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors...
Page 94 - Thou givest salvation even for alms ; Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. And this is mine eternal plea To Him that made heaven, earth, and sea, That, since my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head ! Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths which before I writ.
Page 237 - For if men will impartially, and not asquint, look toward the offices and function of a poet, they will easily conclude to themselves the impossibility of any man's being the good poet, without first being a good man.
Page 170 - ... with a violence not to be described, and a noise like the discharge of innumerable batteries of heavy guns. The darkness of the night, the roaring of the wind and sea, and the dashing of the waves and ice against the rocks, filled the travellers with sensations of awe and horror, so as almost to deprive them of the power of utterance. They stood overwhelmed with astonishment at their miraculous escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux expressed gratitude to God for their deliverance.
Page 308 - Jesus conquer by these weapons, and vanquish cruelty by suffering? can clubs, and staves, and swords, and prisons, and banishments reach the soul, convert the heart, or convince the understanding of man? When did violence ever make a true convert, or bodily punishment, a sincere Christian? This maketh void the end of Christ's coming. Yea, it robbeth God's spirit of its office, which is to convince the world. That is the sword by which the ancient Christians overcame.
Page 92 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Page 93 - Travelleth towards the land of heaven; Over the silver mountains, Where spring the nectar fountains: There will I kiss The bowl of bliss; And drink mine everlasting fill Upon every milken hill. My soul will be a-dry before; But after, it will thirst no more.
Page 240 - Id vere plus quam satis est. The conclusion alludes to a charge of impenetrable obscurity, in which Bruno shares one and the same fate with Plato, Aristotle, Kant, and in truth with every great discoverer and benefactor of the human race ; excepting only when the discoveries have been capable of being rendered...
Page 166 - The sun had now reached its height, and there was as yet little or no alteration in the appearance of the sky. But the motion of the sea under the ice had grown more perceptible...
Page 103 - T serws for manuring of some fruitful soil ; But on a barren one, like thee, methinks, 'Tis like a dunghill that lies still and stinks.

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