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Æschylus æsthetic Aphrodite appear architecture Aristotle artist Ausonius beauty Catullus century Christianity classical colour conception consciousness criticism Democratic divine Divine Comedy drama elements Elizabethan emotion English epic epoch essay Euripides existence expression fact faculty fancy feeling figurative art flower force genius Goethe Greek human ideal ideas imagination imitation intellectual Italian language Latin less literature living man's Matthew Arnold mediæval mental Michel Angelo mind modern moral myths nature numbers object painters painting passion perception period personality Pheidias poems poetry poets Poliziano present produced prose qualities race Realism reality recognise regard religion religious render rhythm Roden Noel romantic rose scientific sculpture sense sensuous Shakespeare Shelley Sophocles soul specific sphere spirit stage style suggestions symbols sympathy taste theism Theocritus things thought tion truth universe utterance verse Victorian Victorian literature Walt Whitman Whitman whole words Wordsworth writers
Side 308 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this *Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompense.
Side 313 - His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there, All new successions to the forms they wear; Torturing th...
Side 350 - One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals • Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Side 149 - If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein as in a mirror we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period...
Side 221 - Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous ; And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
Side 224 - Why died I not from the womb ? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly...
Side 389 - tis the soul of peace ; Of all the virtues 'tis nearest kin to heaven ; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer, A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breath'd.
Side 312 - Life of Life, thy lips enkindle With their love the breath between them; And thy smiles before they dwindle Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes.