Turning-points in Life, 1. köide

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Richard Bentley and Son, 1873

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Page 34 - Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn. Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn...
Page 189 - Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on ! The night is dark and I am far from home; Lead thou me on ! Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.
Page 189 - I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now lead thou me on. I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will: remember not past years. So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on, o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone, and with the morn those angel faces smile, which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
Page 64 - Still indomitable was the reply: "/ care for myself, the more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad — as I am now.
Page 177 - Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears: "Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
Page 263 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 51 - What ! Shall the trick of nostrils and of lips Descend through generations, and the soul That moves within our frame like God in worlds Convulsing, urging, melting, withering — Imprint no record, leave no documents, Of her great history...
Page 74 - I have a work to do in England." I was aching to get home; yet for want of a vessel I was kept at Palermo for three weeks. I began to visit the Churches, and they calmed my impatience, though I did not attend any services.
Page 73 - Especially when I was left by myself, the thought came upon me that deliverance is wrought, not by the many, but by the few ; not by bodies, but by persons.
Page 257 - Every breath of air and ray of light and heat, every beautiful prospect, is, as it were, the skirts of their garments, the waving of the robes of those whose faces see God.

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