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Página 111 - Above me are the Alps, The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned Eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! All that expands the spirit, yet appals, Gather around these summits, as to show How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below.
Página 223 - Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears Were like, a better way.
Página 181 - And view the ground's most gentle dimplement, (As if God's finger touched but did not press In making England) such an up and down Of verdure, — nothing too much up or down, A ripple of land ; such little hills, the sky Can stoop to tenderly and the wheatfields climb...
Página 193 - And see! is God not with us on the earth? And shall we put Him down by aught we do? Who says there's nothing for the poor and vile Save poverty and wickedness? behold!' And ankle-deep in English grass I leaped And clapped my hands, and called all very fair.
Página 37 - WE sow the glebe, we reap the corn, We build the house where we may rest, And then, at moments, suddenly, We look up to the great wide sky, Inquiring wherefore we were born . . . For earnest, or for jest...
Página 222 - ... is the pebbled beach, The mosses are her flowers. She looks across the harbor-bar To see the white gulls fly ; His greeting from the Northern sea Is in their clanging cry. She hums a song, and dreams that he. As in its romance old, Shall homeward ride with silken sails And masts of beaten gold ! O rank is good, and gold is fair, And high and low mate ill ; But love has never known a law Beyond its own sweet will!