Faust: A Dramatic Poem

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Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1851 - 322 pages
 

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Page 266 - No : gayer insects fluttering by Ne'er droop the wing o'er those that die, And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own, And every woe a tear can claim Except an erring sister's shame.
Page 13 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Page 240 - What soul was his, when, from the naked top Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun Rise up, and bathe the world in light...
Page 218 - And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so. And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Page 24 - Rendered almost word for word, without rhyme, according to the Latin measure, as near as the language will permit. WHAT slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours, Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, Pyrrha? For whom bind'st thou In wreaths thy golden hair, Plain in thy neatness...
Page 278 - Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; 'The game is done! I've won, I've won!
Page 223 - Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds, Intends our Muse to vaunt his heavenly verse: Only this, gentles, — we must now perform The form of Faustus
Page 274 - Coffins stood round, like open presses; That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish...
Page 248 - My eyes are dim with childish tears. My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. Thus fares it still in our decay : And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind.
Page 262 - How divine, The liberty, for frail, for mortal, man To roam at large among unpeopled glens And mountainous retirements, only trod By devious footsteps ; regions consecrate To oldest time ! and, reckless of the storm That keeps the raven quiet in her nest, Be as a presence or a motion — one 520 Among the many there...

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