What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
action appear beautiful become begin believe called Christianity close College comes continually course Crown 8vo dear death desire divine duties early Ellen Watson existence faith father feel felt future gained girls give given Graham's Town happiness heart highest hope human influence intellectual interest Italy kind knowledge later laws learned leave less letter light live London look mathematics mean mind Miss months moral morning nature never once passed perfect perhaps physics pleasure possible preparation present question reading Ready reason religion rest seems sense short soon speak spirit strong struggle subjects sure sympathy teaching tell things thought tion true truth turn University week whole wish write written
Page 245 - Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...
Page 196 - But love ye your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.
Page 245 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness...
Page 73 - Our voices took a higher range; Once more we sang: 'They do not die Nor lose their mortal sympathy, Nor change to us, although they change ; 'Rapt from the fickle and the frail With gather'd power, yet the same, Pierces the keen seraphic flame From orb to orb, from veil to veil.
Page 263 - And when they bring you unto the synagogues, and unto magistrates, and powers, take ye no thought how or what thing ye shall answer, or what ye shall say : for the Holy Ghost shall teach you in the same hour what ye ought to say.
Page 248 - My spirit is too weak— mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the cloudy winds to keep, Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye. Such dim-conceived glories of the brain, Bring round the heart an...
Page 245 - Therefore on every morrow are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways Made for our searching. Yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.