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Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade Of that which once was great is pa.s.sed away.
Part i. xiv.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart.
Part i. xvi.
We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.
_Nutting_.
One of those heavenly days that cannot die.
_She was a Phantom of Delight_.
A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles; Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
A perfect woman, n.o.bly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command.
_I Wandered Lonely_.
That inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude.
_Ruth_.
A Youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of heaven.
_Resolution and Independence_.
Part i. St. 7
I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountainside.
_Hart-Leap Well_.
Part ii
"A jolly place," said he, "in times of old!
But something ails it now: the spot is cursed."
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
_Tintern Abbey_.
Sensations sweet Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.
That blessed mood, In which the burden of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened.
The fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart.
The sounding cataract Haunted me like a pa.s.sion; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors and their forms, were then to me An appet.i.te; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm By thoughts supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
But hearing often-times The still, sad music of humanity.
_To a Skylark_.
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home.
_Peter Bell_.
