Roderick, The Last Of The Goths


Hva folk mener - Skriv en omtale

Vi har ikke funnet noen omtaler på noen av de vanlige stedene.

Utvalgte sider

Andre utgaver - Vis alle

Vanlige uttrykk og setninger

Populære avsnitt

Side 4 - Within the soul a faculty abides, That with interpositions, which would hide And darken, so can deal that they become Contingencies of pomp; and serve to exalt Her native brightness. As the ample moon, In the deep stillness of a summer even Rising behind a thick and lofty grove, Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light, In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil Into a substance glorious as her own, Yea, with her own incorporated, by power Capacious and...
Side 222 - And deemed the deep opake would blot her beams ; But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes The orb with richer beauties than her own, Then, passing, leaves her in her light serene.
Side 197 - Nor were the chiefs Of victory less assured, by long success Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength Which, surely they believed, as it had rolled Thus far...
Side 213 - Father, in whatever clime Nature or chance hath cast the seeds of life, All tongues, all colours : neither after death Shall we be sorted into languages And tints, ..white, black, and tawny, Greek and Goth, Northmen and offspring of hot Africa; The All-Father, he in whom we live and move, He the indifferent Judge of all, regards Nations, and hues, and dialects alike. According to their works shall they be judged, When even-handed Justice in the scale Their good and evil weighs.
Side 148 - Ripples and glances on the confluent streams. A lovelier, purer light than that of day Rests on the hills ; and oh how awfully Into that deep and tranquil firmament, The summits of Auseva rise serene ! The watchman on the battlements partakes The stillness of the solemn hour ; he feels The silence of the earth, the endless sound Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars, Which, in that brightest moonlight...
Side 222 - Through all its way it hastens, 'tis received, And, losing all pollution, mingles there In the wide world of waters. So is it With the great stream of things, if all were seen ; Good the beginning, good the end shall be, And transitory evil only make The good end happier. Ages pass away, Thrones fall, and nations disappear, and worlds Grow old and go to wreck ; the soul alone Endures, and what she chuseth for herself, The arbiter of her own destiny, That only shall be permanent.
Side 107 - Oh ! what are we, Frail creatures as we are, that we should sit In judgment, man on man ? and what were we, If the All-merciful should mete to us With the same rigorous measure wherewithal Sinner to sinner metes ? But God beholds The secrets of the heart, — therefore his name Is Merciful.
Side 32 - His spirit failed, and laying on the grave His weary head, as on a pillow, sleep Fell on him. He had prayed to hear a voice Of consolation, and in dreams a voice Of consolation came. Roderick, it said, . . Roderick, my poor, unhappy, sinful child, Jesus have mercy on thee! . . Not if Heaven Had opened, and Romano, visible In his beatitude, had breathed that prayer; . . Not if the grave had spoken, had it pierced So deeply in his soul, nor wrung his heart With such compunctious visitings, nor given...
Side 224 - To the cold moon a richer, stronger strain Than that with which the lyric lark salutes The new-born day. Her deep and thrilling song Seemed with its piercing melody to reach The soul, and in mysterious unison Blend with all thoughts of gentleness and love. Their hearts were open to the healing power Of nature ; and the splendor of the night, The flow of waters, and that sweetest lay, Came to them like a copious evening dew Falling on vernal herbs which thirst for rain.
Side 37 - The open fields, and found himself alone Beneath the starry canopy of Heaven, The sense of solitude, so dreadful late, Was then repose and comfort. There he stopt Beside a little rill, and brake the loaf ; And shedding o'er that long untasted food Painful but quiet tears, with grateful soul He breathed thanksgiving forth, then made his bed On heath and myrtle.

Bibliografisk informasjon