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Page 114 - And yet on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man, as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image : but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
Page 119 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Page 142 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement. From garret to basement, She stood with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver, But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river; Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery Swift to be hurled — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran.
Page 117 - WHEN I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
Page 117 - Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer Right onward.
Page 86 - Eternal coeternal beam, May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate! Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun, Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite.
Page 143 - In she plunged boldly — No matter how coldly The rough river ran — Over the brink of it! Picture it, think of it! Dissolute man! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can! Take her up tenderly — Lift her with care! Fashioned so slenderly — Young, and so fair!
Page 114 - We should be wary, therefore, what persecution we raise against the living labors of public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man, preserved and stored up in books; since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed, sometimes a martyrdom, and if it extend to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at the ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason itself, slays an immortality rather than a life.
Page 109 - Next, (for hear me out now, readers,) that I may tell ye whither my younger feet wandered ; I betook me among those lofty fables and romances,* which recount in solemn cantos the deeds of knighthood founded by our victorious kings, and from hence had in renown over all Christendom.