Macmillan's Magazine, Volume 56Macmillan and Company, 1887 |
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Results 1-5 of 86
Page 11
... better , I will say that I am as dead as a door - nail . I have passed from the condition of life to the condition of existence . By a happy accident I am now alive for purposes of conversation : a pastime in which I always found an ...
... better , I will say that I am as dead as a door - nail . I have passed from the condition of life to the condition of existence . By a happy accident I am now alive for purposes of conversation : a pastime in which I always found an ...
Page 12
... better luck than happens to most poets . For the poet eats himself up in his lifetime , and misses his daily search for rhymes , as well as the daily price of them , when he is dead ; just as an Italian donkey on Sunday misses being ...
... better luck than happens to most poets . For the poet eats himself up in his lifetime , and misses his daily search for rhymes , as well as the daily price of them , when he is dead ; just as an Italian donkey on Sunday misses being ...
Page 14
... better to be a poet . After all , it is If people only knew and understood how much better it is to live out one's life naturally ! There is so little of it , and the remem- brance of that little must serve one so long ! " " It is ...
... better to be a poet . After all , it is If people only knew and understood how much better it is to live out one's life naturally ! There is so little of it , and the remem- brance of that little must serve one so long ! " " It is ...
Page 18
... better to say to him than that there were good plums on the road from Jena to Weimar and that I was writing a ' Faust . ' I got no applause for my plums and no sympathy for my ' Faust ' ; I never wrote the ' Faust , ' but I never ate ...
... better to say to him than that there were good plums on the road from Jena to Weimar and that I was writing a ' Faust . ' I got no applause for my plums and no sympathy for my ' Faust ' ; I never wrote the ' Faust , ' but I never ate ...
Page 22
... better than an unpretending nun , with nothing to say the like of which one was used to hear . Certainly one was not stimulated by , enwrapped , absorbed in the great master's doings only , with much private disappointment , put on ...
... better than an unpretending nun , with nothing to say the like of which one was used to hear . Certainly one was not stimulated by , enwrapped , absorbed in the great master's doings only , with much private disappointment , put on ...
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Popular passages
Page 75 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Page 314 - The One remains, the many change and pass; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly ; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.
Page 340 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Page 340 - O attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
Page 337 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Page 71 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth...
Page 408 - And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent 'mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars.
Page 340 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Page 72 - And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element! O pure of heart! thou need'st not ask of me What this strong music in the soul may be! What, and wherein it doth exist, This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist, This beautiful and beauty-making power.
Page 73 - Tis of the rushing of an host in rout, With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds — At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold ! But hush ! there is a pause of deepest silence...