Tennyson, His Art and Relation to Modern Life

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Isbister, 1894 - 490 pages

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Page 373 - The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Page 101 - Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a...
Page 206 - HE maketh the storm a calm, So that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet ; So HE bringeth them unto their desired haven.
Page 120 - Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, These three alone lead life to sovereign power. Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncall'd for), but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear ; And, because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
Page 83 - A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand; Left on the shore; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white.
Page 371 - And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land. On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full.
Page 439 - The living soul was flash'd on mine, And mine in this was wound, and whirl'd About empyreal heights of thought, And came on that which is, and caught The deep pulsations of the world, Ionian music measuring out The steps of Time - the shocks of Chance The blows of Death. At length my trance Was cancell'd, stricken thro
Page 242 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee: Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls...
Page 296 - In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours, Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers : Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all. " It is the little rift within the lute, That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
Page 101 - COME not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by.

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