Poems. New and complete ed, Volume 3

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Page 177 - ... fairest, But all are divine. They are lost in the hollows ! They stream up again ! What seeks on this mountain The glorified train ? — They bathe on this mountain, In the spring by their road ; Then on to Olympus, Their endless abode. — Whose praise do they mention? Of what is it told ?— What will be for ever ; What was from of old. First hymn they the Father Of all things ; and then, The rest of immortals, The action of men. The day in his hotness The strife with the palm ; The night in...
Page 172 - But mind, but thought, If these have been the master part of us — Where will they find their parent element? What will receive them, who will call them home? But we shall still be in them, and they in us, And we shall be the strangers of the World...
Page 190 - Call'd us to pet thee or to praise, Dear little friend ! at every turn ? That loving heart, that patient soul, Had they indeed no longer span, To run their course, and reach their goal, And read their homily to man ? That liquid, melancholy eye, From whose pathetic, soul-fed springs Seem'd surging the Virgilian cry,* The sense of tears in mortal things...
Page 150 - Is it so small a thing To have enjoy'd the sun, To have lived light in the spring, To have loved, to have thought, to have done...
Page 177 - Tis Apollo comes leading His choir, the Nine. — The leader is fairest, But all are divine.
Page 135 - And bade the winds through space impel the gusty toy. Hither and thither spins The wind-borne, mirroring soul, A thousand glimpses wins, And never sees a whole ; Looks once, and drives elsewhere, and leaves its' last employ. The Gods laugh in their sleeve To watch man doubt and fear, Who knows not what to believe Since he sees nothing clear, And dares stamp nothing false where he finds nothing sure.
Page 152 - s loath to leave this life Which to him little yields — His hard-task'd sunburnt wife, His often-labour'd fields, The boors with whom he talk'd, the country-spots he knew. But thou, because thou hear'st Men scoff at Heaven and Fate, Because the Gods thou fear'st Fail to make blest thy state, - Tremblest, and wilt not dare to trust the joys there are ! I say : Fear not ! Life still Leaves human effort scope. But, since life teems with ill, Nurse no extravagant hope ; Because thou must not dream,...
Page 157 - No, thou art come too late, Empedocles! And the world hath the day, and must break thee, Not thou the world. With men thou canst not live, Their thoughts, their ways, their wishes, are not thine; And being lonely thou art miserable, For something has impair'd thy spirit's strength, And dried its self-sufficing fount of joy.
Page 169 - And you, ye stars, Who slowly begin to marshal, As of old, in the fields of heaven, Your distant, melancholy lines! Have you, too, survived yourselves? Are you, too, what I fear to become ? You, too, once lived; You too moved joyfully, Among august companions, In an older world, peopled by Gods, In a mightier order, The radiant, rejoicing, intelligent Sons of Heaven.
Page 168 - But he, who has outlived his prosperous days — But he, whose youth fell on a different world From that on which his exiled age is thrown — Whose mind was fed on other food, was train'd By other rules than are in vogue to-day — Whose habit of thought is fix'd, who will not change, But, in a world he loves not, must subsist In ceaseless opposition...

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