Pieces of a Broken-down Critic: Picked Up by Himself, Volumes 1-4

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Scotzniovsky, 1858
 

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Page 189 - ... font : The fire-fly wakens : waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost, And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, And slips into the bosom of the lake : So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me.
Page 189 - Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost. And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open untD me.
Page 175 - OF old sat Freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet : Above her shook the starry lights : She heard the torrents meet. There in her place she did rejoice, Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind. Then stept she down thro...
Page 208 - Moreover his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, when she came up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice.
Page 46 - Join all, and try the omnipotence of Jove : Let down our golden, everlasting chain, Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main: Strive all, of mortal, and immortal birth, To drag, by this, the Thunderer down to earth Ye strive in vain ! If I but stretch this hand, I heave the gods, the ocean, and the land; I fix the chain to great Olympus' height, And the vast world hangs trembling in my sight!
Page 16 - With these thou seest — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Page 190 - And so through those dark gates across the wild That no man knows. Indeed I love thee ; come Yield thyself up : my hopes and thine are one : Accomplish thou my manhood and thyself, Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me.
Page 190 - And girdled her with music. Happy he With such a mother ! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him, and tho' he trip and fall He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Page 190 - Yet was there one thro' whom I loved her. one Not learned, save in gracious household ways, Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants, No Angel, but a dearer being, all dipt In Angel instincts, breathing Paradise, Interpretcr between the Gods and men.

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