The Works of Lord Morley, Volume 6

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Macmillan and Company, limited, 1921
 

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Page 107 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Page 131 - They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore ; Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom.
Page 155 - The Church-yard abounds with images which find a mirror in every mind, and with sentiments to which every bosom returns an echo.
Page 134 - twere, anew, the gaps of centuries; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old!— The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.— 'Twas such a night!
Page 155 - I trust is their destiny, to console the afflicted, to add sunshine to daylight by making the happy happier, to teach the young and the gracious of every age, to see, to think and feel, and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous...
Page 88 - The light which enlightens, which has enlightened the darkness of the world ; and this not as a kindled lamp only, but rather as a natural luminary shining by the gift of Heaven ; a flowing light-fountain, as I say, of native original insight, of manhood and heroic nobleness ; — in whose radiance all souls feel that it is well with them.
Page 109 - It is not noon ; the sunbow's rays still arch The torrent with the many hues of heaven, And roll the sheeted silver's waving column O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular, And fling its lines of foaming light along, And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, As told in the Apocalypse.
Page 28 - The criticism and attack on institutions which we have witnessed has made one thing plain, that society gains nothing whilst a man, not himself renovated, attempts to renovate things around him...
Page 225 - My function is that of the aesthetic, not the doctrinal teacher, — the rousing of the nobler emotions, which make mankind desire the social right, not the prescribing of special measures, concerning which the artistic mind, however strongly moved by social sympathy, is often not the best judge.
Page 161 - We shall never learn to feel and respect our real calling and destiny, unless we have taught ourselves to consider everything as moonshine, compared with the education of the heart.

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