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appears artists beauty becomes believe better blue called chapter character close clouds colour compared considered course Dante dark delight drawing effect entirely evil examine existence expression fact false farther feeling finish flowers follow give given greater Greek ground hand heart hills Homer human idea ideal imagination instance interest Italy kind landscape leaves less light lines living look manner matter means mediŠval merely mind mountain nature nearly necessary never noble object observe once painter painting passing passion perfect perhaps persons picture Plate pleasure possible present principles question reader reason received represented respecting rocks scene Scott seems seen sense simple speak spirit strength suppose things thought trees true truth Turner whole
Page 118 - And if thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone : for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.
Page 290 - Are those fraternal four of Borrowdale, Joined in one solemn and capacious grove ; Huge trunks ! — and each particular trunk a growth Of intertwisted fibres serpentine Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved, — Nor uninformed with phantasy, and looks That threaten the profane ; — a pillared shade, Upon whose grassless floor of red-brown hue...
Page 161 - There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Page 274 - Since he, so gray and stubborn now, Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ; Would he could tell how deep the shade A thousand mingled branches made ; How broad the shadows of the oak, How clung the rowan to the rock, And through the foliage showed his head, With narrow leaves and berries red ; What pines on every mountain sprung, O'er every dell what birches hung, In every breeze what aspens shook, What alders shaded every brook!
Page 310 - To watch the corn grow, and the blossoms set; to draw hard breath over ploughshare or spade; to read, to think, to love, to hope, to pray — these are the things that make men happy; they have always had the power of doing these, and they never will have power to do more.
Page 11 - I come, after some embarrassment, to the conclusion, that poetry is " the suggestion, by the imagination, of noble grounds for the noble emotions.
Page 12 - tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between the living and the dead; For, surely, then I should have sight Of him I wait for day and night, With love and longings infinite.
Page 162 - He listen'd, and he wept, and his bright tears Went trickling, down the golden bow he held. Thus with half-shut suffused eyes he stood, While from beneath some cumbrous boughs hard by With solemn step an awful Goddess came, And there was purport in her looks for him, Which he with eager guess began to read Perplex'd, the while melodiously he said: "How cam'st thou over the unfooted sea?