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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.

One in whom persuasion and belief

Had ripened into faith, and faith become
A passionate intuition.


Spires whose silent finger points to heaven.'*

Wisdom married to immortal verse.+

Book iv.


Book vi.


A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays

And confident to-morrows.

Book vii.

The primal duties shine aloft, like stars;

The charities, that soothe, and heal, and bless,

Are scattered at the feet of Man, like flowers.

Book ix.

By happy chance we saw

A twofold image; on a grassy bank

* An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat countries with spire-steeples, which, as they cannot be referred to any other object, point as with silent finger to the sky and stars.-COLERThe Friend, No. 14.


+ Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse.

MILTON. L'Allegro.

A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood
Another and the same.*

O for a single hour of that Dundee

Who on that day the word of onset gave.

Book ix.

Sonnet. In the Pass of Killiecrankie.

As thou these ashes, little Brook! wilt bear
Into the Avon, Avon to the tide

Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas,

Into main ocean they, this deed accursed

An emblem yields to friends and enemies,

How the bold Teacher's doctrine, sanctified

By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed.+

To Wickliffe.

* Mounts from her funeral pyre on wings of flame,

And soars and shines another and the same.

DARWIN. The Botanic Garden.

In obedience to the order of the Council of Constance (1415), the remains of Wickliffe were exhumed and burnt to ashes, and these cast into the Swift, a neighbouring brook running hard by, and 'thus this brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon; Avon into Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wickliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over.'-FULLER. Church History. Sec. ii. B. 4, Par. 53.

Fox says:- What Heraclitus would not laugh, or what Democritus would not weep. For though they digged up his body, burnt his bones, and drowned his ashes, yet the word of God and truth of his doctrine, with the fruit and success thereof, they could not burn.'-Book of Martyrs.

'Some prophet of that day said

"The Avon to the Severn runs,

The Severn to the sea;

And Wickliffe's dust shall spread abroad,

Wide as the waters be.'

From Address before the Sons of New Hampshire,'

by Daniel Webster, 1849.

These lines are similarly quoted by the Rev. John Cumming in the

Voices of the Dead.

Another morn

Risen on mid-noon.*

The Prelude. Book vi.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,

But to be young was very Heaven! France. The Prelude.

And listens like a three year's child.

Lines added to the Ancient Mariner

ROBERT SOUTHEY. 1774-1843.

How beautiful is night!

A dewy freshness fills the silent air;

No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of heaven:

In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark-blue depths.
Beneath her steady ray

The desert-circle spreads,

Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.

How beautiful is night!

They sin who tell us love can die.

With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.


The Curse of Kehama. Canto x.

* Verbatim from Paradise Lost. Book v. Line 310.

Wordsworth in his notes to We are Seven, claims to have written

this line with some others in the Ancient Mariner.

Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe; But 't is the happy that have called thee so.

The Satanic school.

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The Curse of Kehama. Canto xv.

From the Original Preface to the Vision of Judgment.

'But what good came of it at last?'

Quoth little Peterkin.

Why, that I cannot tell,' said he ;

'But 't was a famous victory.' The Battle of Blenheim.

Where Washington hath left

His awful memory

A light for after-times!

Ode written during the War with America, 1814.

My days among the dead are passed ;

Around me I behold,

Where'er these casual eyes are cast,

The mighty minds of old;

My never-failing friends are they,

With whom I converse day by day.

Occasional Pieces. xviii.

CHARLES LAMB. 1775-1834.

HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

Books which are no books.

Old Familiar Faces.

Detached Thoughts on Books.

Who first invented work and bound the free,

And holiday-rejoicing spirit down.


To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood. Ibid.

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