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Seite 115 - Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But, oh ! she dances such a way— No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
Seite 95 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in, and it more fairly dight With cheerful grace and amiable sight. For of the soul the body form doth take : I For soul is form, and doth the body make.
Seite 33 - The remotest discoveries of the Chemist, the Botanist, or Mineralogist, will be as proper objects of the Poet's art as any upon which it can be employed, if the time should ever come when these things shall be familiar to us, and the relations under which they are contemplated by the followers of these respective sciences shall be manifestly and palpably material to us as enjoying and suffering beings.
Seite 18 - Which trample the dim winds ; in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars ; Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed, As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing hair ; they all Sweep onward.
Seite 102 - OH , wearisome condition of Humanity ! Born under one law, to another bound : Vainly begot, and yet forbidden vanity, Created sick, commanded to be sound : What meaneth Nature by these diverse laws?
Seite 179 - The true artificer will not run away from Nature, as he were afraid of her ; or depart from life, and the likeness of truth ; but speak to the capacity of his hearers. And though his Language differ from the vulgar somewhat, it shall not fly from all humanity, with the Tamerlanes, and Tamar-chams of the late age, which had nothing in them but the scenical strutting, and furious vociferation, to warrant them to the ignorant gapers.
Seite 164 - There was an old person of Ware, Who rode on the back of a bear: When they ask'd, " Does it trot ? " he said, " Certainly not! He's a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear...
Seite 165 - You're a bore, and I trust you'll go out of my garden." But they probably ended up by smashing him. Occasionally the men of genius adopt a Mallarmeen policy. They flee from the gross besetting crowd. La chair est triste, helas, et j'ai lu tous les livres. Fuir, la-bas, fuir. . . . It was surely with these words on his lips that the Old Person of Bazing (whose presence of mind, for all that he was a Symbolist, was amazing) went out to purchase the steed which he rode at full speed and escaped from...
Seite 207 - I me to stretchen forth my neck, And east and west upon the people I beck, As doth a dove, sitting upon a barn.
Seite 10 - I hang like a roof, — The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire and snow, When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist Earth was laughing below.