Colloquies, desultory and diverse, but chiefly upon poetry and poets. [by C.L. Lordan].

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Page 201 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Page 192 - To shake thy senate, and from heights sublime Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire Upon thy foes, was never meant my task ; But I can feel thy fortunes, and partake Thy joys and sorrows with as true a heart As any thunderer there.
Page 153 - We rest. — A dream has power to poison sleep ; We rise. — One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep ; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away...
Page 219 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me ; I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee, — Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles, — nor cried aloud In worship of an echo ; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such ; I stood Among them, but not of them ; in a shroud Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filed' my mind, which thus itself subdued.
Page 191 - And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
Page 14 - Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years ; few and evil have the days of the years of my life been...
Page 177 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more ; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep...
Page 86 - Clasp me a little longer, on the brink Of fate ! while I can feel thy dear caress ; And, when this heart hath ceased to beat — oh! think, And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, That thou hast been to me all tenderness, And friend to more than human friendship just Oh ! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs — when I am laid in dust ! xxx.
Page 38 - May plume her feathers and let grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd...
Page 179 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod...

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