The Quarterly Review

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William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray IV, Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle)
John Murray, 1907
 

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Seite 431 - So on our heels a fresh perfection treads, A power more strong in beauty, born of us And fated to excel us, as we pass In glory that old Darkness: nor are we Thereby more conquer'd, than by us the rule Of shapeless Chaos.
Seite 436 - Still glides the stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish; — be it so! Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
Seite 286 - That, in order to give effect to the will of the people as expressed by their elected representatives, it is necessary that the power of the other House to alter or reject bills passed by this House should be so restricted by law as to secure that within the limits of a single Parliament the final decision of the Commons shall prevail...
Seite 160 - Two nations; between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy; who are as ignorant of each other's habits, thoughts, and feelings, as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets; who are formed by a different breeding, are fed by different food, are ordered by different manners, and are not governed by the same laws.
Seite 432 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
Seite 440 - Let visions of the night or of the day Come, as they will; and many a time they come, Until this earth he walks on seems not earth, This light that strikes his eyeball is not light, This air that smites his forehead is not air But vision — yea, his very hand and foot — In moments when he feels he cannot die, And knows himself no vision to himself, Nor the high God a vision, nor that One Who rose again: ye have seen what ye have seen.
Seite 439 - The living soul was flash'd on mine, And mine in this was wound, and whirl'd About empyreal heights of thought, And came on that which is, and caught The deep pulsations of the world, Ionian music measuring out The steps of Time - the shocks of Chance The blows of Death. At length my trance Was cancell'd, stricken thro' with doubt. Vague words! but ah, how hard to frame In matter-moulded forms of speech, Or ev'n for intellect to reach Thro...
Seite 442 - I will go down to self-annihilation and eternal death Lest the Last Judgment come and find me unannihilate, And I be seiz'cl and giv'n into the hands of my own Selfhood.
Seite 427 - Was the trial sore ? Temptation sharp ? Thank God a second time ! Why comes temptation but for man to meet •' And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph ? Pray " Lead us into no such temptations, Lord...
Seite 435 - For I must tread on shadowy ground, must sink Deep, and, aloft ascending, breathe in worlds To which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.

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