The Development of Taste, and Other Studies in Aesthetics

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J. Maclehose and sons, 1887 - 392 pages

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Page 104 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica : Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines' of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins : Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close...
Page 297 - Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast : — Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise...
Page 134 - And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills and Groves, Forebode not any severing of our loves! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they...
Page 117 - 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. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not ; in enjoyment it expired.
Page 291 - There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shroud of snow ; And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever!
Page 34 - Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein : then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord : For he cometh, for he cometh to judge the earth : he shall judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth.
Page 135 - 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.
Page 135 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Page 126 - But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square ? Who knows the individual hour in which His habits were first sown, even as a seed ? Who that shall point as with a wand and say " This portion of the river of my mind Came from yon fountain...
Page 43 - As when in heaven the stars about the moon Look beautiful, when all the winds are laid, And every height comes out, and jutting peak And valley, and the immeasurable heavens Break open to their highest, and all the stars Shine, and the Shepherd gladdens in his heart...

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