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Страница 197 - And he trembling and astonished said, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And the Lord said unto him, Arise and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do.
Страница 228 - O MAY I JOIN THE CHOIR INVISIBLE" Longum illud tempus, quum non era, magis me movet, quam hoc exiguum. — Cicero, Ad Att., xii: 18. O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
Страница 155 - It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century ; — But better far it is to speak One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of men...
Страница 157 - Moreover, something is or seems, That touches me with mystic gleams, Like glimpses of forgotten dreams — 'Of something felt, like something here; Of something done, I know not where; Such as no language may declare.
Страница 26 - Let the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.
Страница 124 - Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates: and be ye lift up ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
Страница 252 - And verily many thinkers of this age, Ay, many Christian teachers, half in heaven, Are wrong in just my sense who understood Our natural world too insularly, as if No spiritual counterpart completed it Consummating its meaning, rounding all To justice and perfection, line by line, Form by form, nothing single nor alone. The great below clenched by the great above...
Страница 97 - This is peace To conquer love of self and lust of life, To tear deep-rooted passion from the breast, To still the inward strife ; For love to clasp Eternal Beauty close ; For glory to be Lord of self ; for pleasure To live beyond the gods ; for countless wealth To lay up lasting treasure Of perfect service rendered, duties done In charity, soft speech, and stainless days : These riches shall not fade away in life, Nor any death dispraise.
Страница 200 - HIGH above hate I dwell: O storms! farewell. Though at my sill your daggered thunders play Lawless and loud to-morrow as to-day, To me they sound more small Than a young fay's footfall: Soft and far-sunken, forty fathoms low In Long Ago, And winnowed into silence on that wind Which takes wars, like a dust, and leaves but love behind. Hither Felicity Doth climb to me, And bank me in with turf and marjoram Such as bees lip, or the new-weaned lamb...

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