Men and Women: In a Balcony; Dramatis Personę

Front Cover
T. Y. Crowell, 1898 - English poetry - 317 pages

From inside the book

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 173 - Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the ineffable Name? Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands! What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same? Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy power expands? There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before...
Page 175 - GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!
Page 201 - While man knows partly but conceives beside, Creeps ever on from fancies to the fact, And in this striving, this converting air Into a solid he may grasp and use, Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beasts': God is, they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.
Page 172 - But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can, Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are ! And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
Page 48 - To comfort me on my entablature Whereon I am to lie till I must ask "Do I live, am I dead?" There, leave me, there! For ye have stabbed me with ingratitude To death: ye wish it — God, ye wish it! Stone — Gritstone, a-crumble!
Page 97 - I shall never, in the years remaining, Paint you pictures, no, nor carve you statues, Make you music that should all-express me ; So it seems : I stand on my attainment. This of verse alone, one life allows me ; Verse and nothing else have I to give you Other heights in other lives, God willing : All the gifts from all the heights, your own, love ! Yet a semblance of resource avails us — Shade so finely touched, love's sense must seize it.
Page 99 - Nay: for if that moon could love a mortal, Use, to charm him (so to fit a fancy) All her magic ('tis the old sweet mythos) She would turn a new side to her mortal, Side unseen of herdsman, huntsman, steersman — Blank to Zoroaster on his terrace, Blind to Galileo on his turret, Dumb to Homer, dumb to Keats — him, even!
Page 170 - And one would bury his brow with a blind plunge down to hell, Burrow awhile and build, broad on the roots of things, Then up again swim into sight, having based me my palace well, Founded it, fearless of flame, flat on the nether springs.
Page 39 - Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine. Their works drop groundward, but themselves, I know, Reach many a time a heaven that's shut to me, Enter and take their place there sure enough, Though they come back and cannot tell the world. My works are nearer heaven, but I sit here.
Page 34 - This world's no blot for us Nor blank; it means intensely, and means good: To find its meaning is my meat and drink.

Bibliographic information