Prose Remains of Arthur Hugh Clough: With a Selection from His Letters and a Memoir

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Macmillan and Company, 1888 - 421 Seiten
 

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Seite 368 - The Forsaken Merman Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below. Now my brothers call from the bay; Now the great winds shoreward blow; Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away. This way, this way. Call her once before you go. Call once yet. In a voice that she will know...
Seite 370 - On the blanch'd sands a gloom ; Up the still, glistening beaches, Up the creeks we will hie, Over banks of bright seaweed The ebb-tide leaves dry. We will gaze, from the sand-hills, At the white, sleeping town ; At the church on the hill-side — And then come back down. Singing : " There dwells a loved one, But cruel is she ! She left lonely for ever The kings of the sea.
Seite 316 - Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man...
Seite 385 - And I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven : this sore travail hath God given to the sons of man to be exercised therewith.
Seite 369 - we are long alone; The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan." But, ah, she gave me never a look, For her eyes were seal'd to the holy book! Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door. Come away, children, call no more! Come away, come down, call no more! Down, down, down!
Seite 286 - And they said one to another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon us.
Seite 361 - mong men, not mailed in scorn, But in the armor of a pure intent. Great duties are before me, and great songs, And whether crowned or crownless, when I fall, It matters not, so as God's work is done. I've learned to prize the quiet lightning deed, Not the applauding thunder at its heels, Which men call Fame.
Seite 376 - mong its dark peers, It seems a straggler from the files of June, Which in its wanderings had lost its wits, And half its beauty; and, when it returned, Finding its old companions gone away, It joined November's troop, then marching past ; And so the frail thing comes, and greets...
Seite 339 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
Seite 373 - WE cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd.

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