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Page 253 - Unskilful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er ! Such fate to suffering worth is...
Page 201 - One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists — one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good.
Page 254 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 311 - JUST for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat — Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us, Lost all the others she lets us devote; They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver, So much was theirs who so little allowed: How all our copper had gone for his service ! Rags — were they purple, his heart had been proud ! We that had loved him so, followed him...
Page 203 - The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame ; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name ! Reader, attend ! whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit ; Know, prudent, cautious, self-control Is wisdom's root.
Page 200 - We delude ourselves in either case; and the best cure for our delusion is to let our minds rest upon that great and inexhaustible word life, until we learn to enter into its meaning. A poetry of revolt against moral ideas is a poetry of revolt against life; a poetry of indifference towards moral ideas is a poetry of indifference towards life.
Page 253 - Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine— no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate, Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, Shall be thy doom ! To Ruin ALL hail, inexorable lord ! At whose destruction-breathing word The mightiest empires fall!
Page 194 - Let us conceive of the whole group of civilised nations as being, for intellectual and spiritual purposes, one great confederation, bound to a joint action and working towards a common result ; a confederation whose members have a due knowledge both of the past, out of which they all proceed, and of one another. This was the ideal of Goethe, and it is an ideal which will impose itself upon the thoughts of our modern societies more and more.
Page 199 - In those fine lines Milton utters, as every one at once perceives, a moral idea. Yes, but so too, when Keats consoles the forwardbending lover on the Grecian Urn, the lover arrested and presented in immortal relief by the sculptor's hand before he can kiss, with the line, "For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair" — he utters a moral idea. When Shakespeare says, that "We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep,
Page 201 - Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And passions hold a fluctuating seat ; But by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists. Immutably survive, For our support, the measures and the forms Which an abstract intelligence supplies ; Whose kingdom is where time and space are not.