In Memoriam. Ralph Waldo Emerson: Recollections of His Visits to England in 1833, 1847-8, 1872-3, and Extracts from Unpublished Letters

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Simpkin, Marshall, & Company, 1882 - 120 pages
 

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Page 22 - Yet there happened in my time one noble speaker who was full of gravity in his speaking; his language, where he could spare or pass by a jest, was nobly censorious. No man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered.
Page 54 - He that of such a height hath built his mind, And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame Of his resolved powers, nor all the wind Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong His settled peace, or to disturb the same, What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may The boundless wastes and wilds of man survey.
Page 58 - Cambridge, some thirty years ago, was an event without any former parallel in our literary annals, a scene to be always treasured in the memory for its picturesqueness and its inspiration. What crowded and breathless aisles, what windows clustering with eager heads, what enthusiasm of approval, what grim silence of foregone dissent...
Page 35 - Why should you renounce your right to traverse the star-lit deserts of truth for the premature comforts of an acre, house, and barn? Truth also has its roof, and bed, and board. Make yourself necessary to the world and mankind will give you bread, and if not store of it, yet such as shall not take away your property in all men's possessions, in all men's affections, in art, in nature, and in hope.
Page 8 - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled fanners stood And fired the shot heard round the world.
Page 77 - But, to come back to Emerson (whom, by the way, I believe we left waiting), — his is, we may say, A Greek head on right Yankee shoulders, whose range Has Olympus for one pole, for t'other the Exchange...
Page 77 - That he talks of things sometimes as if they were dead; Life, nature, love, God, and affairs of that sort, He looks at as merely ideas; in short, As if they were fossils stuck round in a cabinet, Of such vast extent that our earth 'sa mere dab in it; Composed just as he is inclined to conjecture her, Namely, one part pure earth, ninety-nine parts pure lecturer...
Page 77 - But he paints with a brush so untamed and profuse, They seem nothing but bundles of muscles and thews; E. is rather like Flaxman, lines strait and severe, And a colorless outline, but full, round, and clear; — To the men he thinks worthy he frankly accords The design of a white marble statue in words.
Page 23 - Burns, — every man's, every boy's and girl's head carries snatches of his songs, and they say them by heart, and, what is strangest of all, never learned them from a book, but from mouth to mouth. The wind whispers them, the birds whistle them, the corn, barley, and bulrushes hoarsely rustle them, nay, the music-boxes...
Page 77 - A good color in his face, eyes clear, with the well-known expression of sweetness, and the old clearpeering aspect quite the same.

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