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adore amid appeal arguments of Lucifer aspirations Author awful beauty benevolence born bosom breath Cain cause character of Cain charity child Christian consequences considered coping COURIER Creator dare dead death Deity doubt dust earth EDITOR faith feeling finite freedom future genius given gives grandeur grave ground guard hand happi head heart Heaven honour hope humanity ignorance ill-regulated KING knowledge laurelled lead leave thee letter liberal liberty light lines Listen living lofty look Lord Byron Majesty mind monument moral Morning Post mysteries nature night noble observation ourselves passage passions peace perfect picture prayer present pure religion remains repose rest reverence rises Rupert Street sacred seek shines sick simple solace soul speak spirit spring star sublime Sydney taken temple tenderness things thou thoughts tion tomb universal unto wisdom written
Strana 26 - My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone: The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile ! The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love, I cannot share, But wear the chain.
Strana 27 - Tread those reviving passions down, Unworthy manhood! — unto thee Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be. If thou regret'st thy youth, why live? The land of honourable death Is here: — up to the field, and give Away thy breath! Seek out — less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Strana 40 - Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will Till our mortality predominates, And men are — what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
Strana 12 - The charging cheer, Though Death's pale horse lead on the chase, Shall still be dear. And place our trophies where men kneel To Heaven! — but Heaven rebukes my zeal! The cause of Truth and human weal, O God above! Transfer it from the sword's appeal To Peace and Love.
Strana 46 - But strew his ashes to the wind Whose sword or voice has served mankind — And is he dead, whose glorious mind ' Lifts thine on high ? — To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die.
Strana 26 - The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love, I cannot share, But wear the chain. But 'tis not thus — and 'tis not here — Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow.
Strana 47 - As clay hath seldom borne; his aspirations Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth, And they have only taught him what we know — That knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance.
Strana 40 - My mother Earth! And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye. And thou, the bright eye of the universe, That openest over all, and unto all Art a delight— thou shin'st not on my heart.
Strana 25 - Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move : Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone...