The sketch book of the South

Forsideomslag
1835

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Side 60 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Side 74 - And bring all Heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain. These pleasures, Melancholy, give; And I with thee will choose to live.
Side 62 - O'er the smooth enamelled green, Where no print of step hath been, Follow me, as I sing And touch the warbled string: Under the shady roof Of branching elm star-proof Follow me. I will bring you where she sits, Clad in splendour as befits Her deity. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen.
Side 23 - Venice gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Side 61 - And if this be the science of the stars, I too, with glad and zealous industry, Will learn acquaintance with this cheerful faith. It is a gentle and affectionate thought, That in immeasurable heights above us, At our first birth, the wreath of love was woven, With sparkling stars for flowers.
Side 44 - Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts is lawful prize ; Nor all that glisters gold.
Side 145 - It rests with me to wind my horn — Thou art with numbers overborne ; It rests with me, here, brand to brand, Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand : But...
Side 112 - There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings...
Side 61 - They live no longer in the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names. And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend ; and to the lover Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky Shoot influence down; and even at this day 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, And Venus who brings everything that's fair.
Side 19 - Conscience ! . . . Poor plodding Priests and preaching Friars may make Their hollow pulpits and the empty aisles Of churches ring with that round word : but we, That draw the subtile and more piercing air In that sublimed region of a court, Know all is good we make so, and go on Secured by the prosperity of our crimes.

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