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Page 16 - Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here.
Page 2 - Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And sedulous to stop the coming tide, Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Onward methinks, and diligently slow, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow ; Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar, Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore : While the pent ocean rising o'er the pile, Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile ; The slow canal, the yellow-blossom'd vale, The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail, The crowded mart, the cultivated...
Page 2 - To men of other minds my fancy flies, Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And sedulous to stop the coming tide, Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Onward methinks, and diligently slow, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow ; Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar, Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore...
Page 5 - The lion would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard ; Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward; And, when she waked, he waited diligent, With humble service to her will prepared : From her fair eyes he took commandement, And ever by her looks conceived her intent.
Page 13 - Stands he not thereby in the centre of Immensities, in the conflux of Eternities? He feels; power has been given him to know, to believe; nay does not the spirit of Love, free in its celestial primeval brightness, even here, though but for moments, look through? Well said Saint Chrysostom, with his lips of gold, " the true SHEKINAH is Man " : where else is the GOD'S-PRESENCE manifested not to our eyes only, but to our hearts, as in our fellow-man?
Page 17 - Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth, Purple and gushing: sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth; Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps, Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth. Sweet is revenge — especially to women, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen.
Page 5 - One day, nigh weary of the irksome way, From her unhasty beast she did alight, And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay In secret shadow, far from all men's sight ; From her fair head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside.
Page 24 - Older than all preached Gospels was this unpreached, inarticulate, but ineradicable, forever-enduring Gospel : Work, and therein have wellbeing. Man, Son of Earth and of Heaven, lies there not, in the innermost heart of thee, a Spirit of active Method, a Force for Work ; — and burns like a painfully...
Page 13 - Round his mysterious ME, there lies, under all those wool-rags, a Garment of Flesh (or of Senses), contextured in the Loom of Heaven; whereby he is revealed to his like, and dwells with them in UNION and DIVISION; and sees and fashions for himself a Universe, with azure Starry Spaces, and long Thousands of Years. Deep-hidden is he under that strange Garment; amid Sounds and Colours and Forms, as it were, swathedin, and inextricably overshrouded : yet it is sky-woven, and worthy of a God.