The District School as it was: Scenery-showing, and Other Writings

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Press of T. R. Marvin, 1852 - 364 pagina's

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Pagina 76 - You'd scarce expect one of my age, To speak in public on the stage ; And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero, Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my imperfections by. Large streams from little fountains flow; Tall oaks from little acorns grow...
Pagina 237 - Beauty — a living Presence of the earth, Surpassing the most fair ideal Forms Which craft of delicate Spirits hath composed From earth's materials — waits upon my steps ; Pitches her tents before me as I move, An hourly neighbour.
Pagina 241 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Pagina 310 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank The spectacle : sensation, soul, and form All melted into him : they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live : they were his life.
Pagina 270 - Of mountain torrents ; or the visible scene Would enter unawares into his mind With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received Into the bosom of the steady lake.
Pagina 280 - THOU who wouldst see the lovely and the wild Mingled in harmony on Nature's face, Ascend our rocky mountains. Let thy foot Fail not with weariness, for on their tops The beauty and the majesty of earth, Spread wide beneath, shall make thee to forget The steep and toilsome way.
Pagina 135 - I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am in a state of grate bliss, and trust these lines will find you injoyin the same blessins.
Pagina 244 - Me oft has fancy ludicrous and wild Soothed with a waking dream of houses, towers, Trees, churches, and strange visages expressed In the red cinders, while with poring eye I gazed, myself creating what I saw.
Pagina 275 - I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me ; and to me. High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture...
Pagina 287 - FLOW on forever, in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty. Yea, flow on Unfathomed and resistless. God hath set His rainbow on thy forehead ; and the cloud Mantles around thy feet. And he doth give Thy voice of thunder power to speak of Him Eternally — bidding the lip of man Keep silence — and upon thy rocky altar pour Incense of awe-struck praise.

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