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Alexander Anne Boleyn apparitor atheism authority beauty believe better called character Christianity Church circumstances civilisation conscience crime Demosthenes divine doctrine doubt Edinburgh Edinburgh Review effect England English evil expression fact faith fancy favour feel France friends genius give Gowrie Greece Greek hand Hautefort heart hope human idea imagination influence intellect interest Italian Italy James king labour least less literary literature living Lord Lord John Russell Lord Moira Macedon Macedonian Madame de Chevreuse Madame de Longueville matter ment mind minister Moore moral nation nature never Nicaragua object offences opinion painter party passion peculiar perhaps Piedmont poems poet poetry political Pre-Raphaelite present racter religion religious Richelieu Ruskin Ruthven seems sense Shelley Sir Robert Peel social society soul spirit statesmen strong theology thing thought tion true truth Whig whole words write
Page 369 - Poetry is not like reasoning, a power to be exerted according to the determination of the will. A man cannot say, " I will compose poetry". The greatest poet even cannot say it; for the mind in creation is as a fading coal, which some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness; this power arises from within, like the colour of a flower which fades and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our natures are unprophetic either of its approach or...
Page 377 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Page 50 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent.
Page 241 - ... occupy, or fortify, or colonize, or assume or exercise any dominion over Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito Coast, or any part of Central America. Nor will either make use of any protection which either affords, or may afford, or any alliance which either has or may have, to or with, any state or people for the purpose of erecting or maintaining any such fortifications, or of occupying, fortifying, or colonizing Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito Coast, or any part of Central America, or of...
Page 360 - The One remains, the many change and pass : Heaven's light for ever shines, Earth's shadows fly ; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.
Page 370 - All the earth and air with thy voice is loud, as when night is bare, from one lonely cloud the moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.
Page 241 - Britain take advantage of any intimacy, or use any alliance, connection, or influence that either may possess with any state or government through whose territory the said canal may pass, for the purpose of acquiring or holding, directly or indirectly, for the citizens or subjects of the one, any rights or advantages in regard to commerce or navigation through the said canal which shall not be offered on the same terms to the citizens or subjects of the other.
Page 174 - This task specifies not only what is to be done but how it is to be done and the exact time allowed for doing it.
Page 263 - He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring ; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he might have been a king ! He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the ba ; And the bonny Earl of Murray Was the flower amang them a'.
Page 374 - Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?