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Página 72 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them ? Is not the love of these deep in my heart With a pure passion?
Página 101 - Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven, If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
Página 90 - All heaven and earth are still— though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep: — All heaven and earth are still: From the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence.
Página 92 - Except ye become as little children ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven...
Página 60 - Multiplying all our powers by millions of millions, we do not reach the sun's expenditure. And still, notwithstanding this enormous drain, in the lapse of human history we are unable to detect a diminution of his store ; measured by our largest terrestrial standards, such a reservoir of power is infinite ; but it is our privilege to rise above these standards and to regard the sun himself as a speck in infinite extension — a mere drop in the universal sea.
Página 128 - Tis in the gentle moonlight : 'Tis floating in day's setting glories ; Night, Wrapt in her sable robe, with silent step, Comes to our bed and breathes it in our ears. Night, and the dawn, bright day, and thoughtful eve, All time, all bounds, the limitless expanse, As one vast mystic instrument, are touched By an unseen, living Hand, and conscious chords Quiver with joy in this great jubilee : The dying hear it ; and, as sounds of earth Grow dull and distant, wake their passing souls To mingle in...
Página 127 - Celestial voices Hymn it unto our souls : according harps By angel fingers touched, when the mild stars Of morning sang together, sound forth still The song of our great immortality...
Página 74 - Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone; A truth, which through our being then doth melt, And purifies from self: it is a tone, The soul and source of music, which makes known Eternal harmony, and sheds a charm Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone, Binding all things with beauty ; — 'twould disarm The spectre Death, had he substantial power to harm.
Página 42 - ... a ball round by a string and make the string wind up round our fingers, the ball always flies quicker and quicker as the string is shortened Two eddies in a stream, as has been stated, fall into a mutual revolution at the distance of a couple of inches, through the same cause which makes a pair of suns link in mutual revolution at the distance of millions of miles. There is, we might say, a sublime simplicity in this indifference of the grand regulations to the vastness or minuteness of the field...
Página 59 - Presented rightly to the mind, the discoveries and generalizations of modern science constitute a poem more sublime than has ever yet been addressed to the intellect and imagination of man. The natural philosopher of to-day may dwell amid conceptions which beggar those of Milton.

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