Faust: A Dramatic Poem, Том 1

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Ticknor and Fields, 1856 - 322 страница

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Страница 280 - 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!
Страница 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 watery depths ; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Страница 242 - 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...
Страница 227 - If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us. Why, then, belike we must sin, and so consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death. What doctrine call you this, Che sera sera, What will be, shall be?
Страница 234 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up...
Страница 234 - And what if all of animated nature Be but organic harps diversely framed, That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze, At once the Soul of each, and God of all?
Страница 276 - Coffins stood round, like open presses; That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish...
Страница 267 - O surer than suspicion's hundred eyes Is that fine sense, which to the pure in heart, By mere oppugnancy of their own goodness, Reveals the approach of evil.
Страница 243 - The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!
Страница 221 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres, Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so, And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow ; And, with your ninefold harmony, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.

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