The Works of John Ruskin: Modern painters

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G. Allen, 1903
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Page 39 - Therefore rejoice ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the Inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.
Page 249 - Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?
Page 219 - Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
Page 30 - He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
Page 245 - And fuelled entrails thence conceiving fire, Sublimed* with mineral fury, aid the winds, And leave a singed bottom all involved With stench and smoke: such resting found the sole Of unblest feet.
Page 303 - The stream of thought, till he lay breathing there At peace, and faintly smiling. His last sight Was the great moon, which o'er the western line Of the wide world her mighty horn suspended, With whose dun beams inwoven darkness seemed To mingle.
Page 377 - Richard : no man cried, God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Page 145 - One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Page 48 - I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
Page 288 - I see thee glittering from afar : And then thou art a pretty star Not quite so fair as many are In heaven above thee ! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Self-poised in air, thou seem'st to rest ; May peace come never to his nest Who shall reprove thee...

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