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Oxford University Press, 1884 - Electronic journals
 

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Page 320 - NOT to admire, is all the art I know, To make men happy, and to keep them so.
Page 60 - He is made one with Nature : there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird ; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own ; Which wields the world with never wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Page 282 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge ; And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep!
Page 152 - In the cottage of the rudest peasant, In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers, Speaking of the Past unto the Present, Tell...
Page 282 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Page 388 - And I deem it wise To make him Nature's play-mate. He knows well The evening-star; and once, when he awoke In most distressful mood (some inward pain Had made up that strange thing, an infant's dream...
Page 208 - Thus the devil played at chess with me, and yielding a pawn, thought to gain a queen of me, taking advantage of my honest endeavours; and whilst I laboured to raise the structure of my reason, he strived to undermine the edifice of my faith.
Page 314 - The devil was sick, the devil a monk would be ; The devil was well, the devil a monk was he.
Page 82 - The Encyclopaedic Dictionary. A New and Original Work of Reference to all the Words in the English Language, with a Full Account of their Origin, Meaning, Pronunciation, and Use.
Page 282 - O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness...

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