Four Great Teachers: John Ruskin, Thomas Carlyle, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Robert Browning

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George Allen, 1890 - 140 páginas
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Página 132 - But the time will come, — at last it will, When, Evelyn Hope, what meant (I shall say) In the lower earth, in the years long still, That body and soul so pure and gay ? Why your hair was amber, I shall divine, And your mouth of your own geranium's red — And what you would do with me, in fine, In the new life come in the old one's stead.
Página 137 - He giveth his beloved sleep — Ps. cxxvii. 2. OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — ' He giveth His beloved sleep ' ? What would we give to our beloved?
Página 129 - THE LOST LEADER. JUST for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat — Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us, Lost all the others, she lets us devote; They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver...
Página 115 - And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Página 86 - Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, Is always a child. In the woods is perpetual youth. Within these plantations...
Página 15 - And instead of this there is not a moment of any day of our lives when nature is not producing scene after scene, picture after picture, glory after glory, and working still upon such exquisite and constant principles of the most perfect beauty that it is quite certain it is all done for us and intended for our perpetual pleasure.
Página 123 - Never to be again ! But many more of the kind As good, nay, better perchance : is this your comfort to me ? To me, who must be saved because I cling with my mind To the same, same self, same love, same God: ay, what was, shall be.
Página 117 - Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
Página 130 - Life's night begins : let him never come back to us ! There would be doubt, hesitation and pain, Forced praise on our part — the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again...
Página 10 - But, above all, the victory is most sure For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to 'the law Of conscience — conscience reverenced and obeyed, As God's most intimate presence in the soul, And his most perfect image in the world.

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