Untrodden English Ways

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Little, Brown,, 1908 - 341 pages
 

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Page 315 - When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound; But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough.
Page 213 - The storm has gone over me ; and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honours, I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth ! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the Divine justice, and in some degree submit to it.
Page 204 - The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So, calm are we when passions are no more! For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost.
Page 275 - O strong soul, by what shore Tarriest thou now ? For that force, Surely, has not been left vain ! Somewhere, surely, afar, In the sounding labour-house vast Of being, is practised that strength, Zealous, beneficent, firm...
Page 127 - Poetry, appeared to be compositions infinitely superior to the allegory of the preaching tinker. We live in better times ; and we are not afraid to say, that, though there were many clever men in England during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were only two minds which possessed the imaginative faculty in a very eminent degree. One of those minds produced the Paradise Lost, the other the Pilgrim's Progress.
Page 127 - I know of no book, the Bible excepted, as above all comparison, which I, according to my judgment and experience, could so safely recommend as teaching and enforcing the whole saving truth, according to the mind that was in Christ Jesus, as the
Page 105 - Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end, These are thy honours ! not that here thy bust Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust ; But that the worthy and the good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms — Here lies GAY...
Page 298 - Went heaving through the water like a swan; When, from behind that craggy steep till then The horizon's bound, a huge peak, black and huge, As if with voluntary power instinct, Upreared its head. I struck and struck again, And growing still in stature the grim shape Towered up between me and the stars, and still, For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And measured motion like a living thing, Strode after me.
Page 170 - They linger about these as about the tombs of friends and companions ; for indeed there is something of companionship between the author and the reader. Other men are known to posterity only through the medium of history, which is continually growing faint and obscure ; but the intercourse between the author and his fellow-men is ever new, active and immediate.
Page 97 - Drayton's name, whose sacred dust We recommend unto thy trust : Protect his mem'ry, and preserve his story ; Remain a lasting monument of his glory ; And when thy ruins shall disclaim To be the treasurer of his name, His name, that cannot fade, shall be An everlasting monument to thee.

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