The Excursion; a Poem

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Edward Moxon, 1836 - 374 pages

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Page 323 - The primal duties shine aloft — like stars ; The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of Man — like flowers.
Page xi - On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing in solitude, I oft perceive Fair trains of imagery before me rise, Accompanied by feelings of delight Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed ; And I am conscious of affecting thoughts And dear remembrances, whose presence soothes Or elevates the Mind, intent to weigh The good and evil of our mortal state.
Page 155 - 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.
Page 118 - But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists; — immutably survive, For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract intelligence supplies; Whose kingdom is, where time and space are not.
Page 116 - ONE adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists, one only — an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power ; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good. The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the Will Supreme, For time and for eternity...
Page 66 - With roaring sound, that ceases not to flow, Like smoke, along the level of the blast, In mighty current ; theirs, too, is the song Of stream and headlong flood that seldom fails ; And, in the grim and breathless hour of noon, Methinks that I have heard them echo back The thunder's greeting.
Page 225 - For robes with regal purple tinged ; convert The crook into a sceptre ; give the pomp Of circumstance ; and here the tragic Muse Shall find apt subjects for her highest art. Amid the groves, under the shadowy hills, The generations are prepared ; the pangs, The internal pangs, are ready ; the dread strife Of poor humanity's afflicted will Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny.
Page 11 - All things, responsive to the writing, there Breathed immortality, revolving life, And greatness still revolving; infinite: There littleness was not; the least of things Seemed infinite; and there his spirit shaped Her prospects, nor did he believe, - he saw . What wonder if his being thus became Sublime and comprehensive!
Page 141 - Amid the wrangling schools — a spirit hung, Beautiful region ! o'er thy towns and farms, Statues and temples, and memorial tombs ; And emanations were perceived ; and acts Of immortality, in nature's course, Exemplified by mysteries, that were felt As bonds, on grave philosopher imposed And armed warrior , and in every grove A gay or pansive tenderness prevailed, When piety more awful had relaxed. ' Take, running river, take these locks of mine...
Page 26 - It were a wantonness, and would demand Severe reproof, if we were men whose hearts Could hold vain dalliance with the misery Even of the dead; contented thence to draw A momentary pleasure, never marked By reason, barren of all future good. But we have known that there is often found In mournful thoughts, and always might be found, A power to virtue friendly ; were 't not so, I am a dreamer among men, indeed An idle dreamer!

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