Walter Savage Landor: A Biography, 2 tomas

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Fields, Osgood, & Company, 1869 - 693 psl.
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480 psl. - Twas vain, in holy ground He hid his face amid the shades of death. I waste for him my breath Who wasted his for me : but mine returns, And this lorn bosom burns With stifling heat, heaving it up in sleep, And waking me to weep Tears that had melted his soft heart : for years Wept he as bitter tears. Merciful God!
51 psl. - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell ; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy ; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
305 psl. - AH, WHAT avails the sceptred race! Ah ! what the form divine ! What every virtue, every grace ! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee.
201 psl. - We are what suns and winds and waters make us; The mountains are our sponsors, and the rills Fashion and win their nursling with their smiles.
70 psl. - Sir, I am obliged to you for having asked me this evening. Parr is a fair man. I do not know when I have had an occasion of such free controversy. It is remarkable how much of a man's life may pass without meeting with any instance of this kind of open discussion.
104 psl. - Tis not in battles that from youth we train The Governor who must be wise and good, And temper with the sternness of the brain Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood. Wisdom doth live with children round her knees : Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk Man holds with...
676 psl. - In many a tender wheaten plot Flowers that were dead Live, and old suns revive; but not That holier head. By this white wandering waste of sea, Far north, I hear One face shall never turn to me As once this year: Shall never smile and turn and rest On mine as there, Nor one most sacred hand be prest Upon my hair.
470 psl. - He may have left the lowly walks of men ; Left them he has; what then? Are not his footsteps followed by the eyes Of all the good and wise? Tho...
70 psl. - ... gave him no quarter. The subject of our dispute was the liberty of the press. Dr. Johnson was very great ; whilst he was arguing, I observed that he stamped. Upon this, I stamped. Dr. Johnson said, ' Why did you stamp, Dr. Parr?' — I replied, ' Sir, because YOU stamped ; and I was resolved not to give you the advantage even of a stamp in the argument.
8 psl. - tis and ever was my wish and way To let all flowers live freely, and all die (Whene'er their Genius bids their souls depart) Among their kindred in their native place. I never pluck the rose ; the violet's head Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank And not reproacht me ; the ever-sacred cup Of the pure lily hath between my hands Felt safe, unsoil'd, nor lost one grain of gold.

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