A Theory of Fine Art

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Scribner, Armstrong,, 1874 - 290 páginas

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Página 212 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain. Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason!
Página 106 - ... in an autumnal morning, without feeling an elevation of soul like the enthusiasm of devotion or poetry. Tell me, my dear friend, to what can this be owing! Are we a piece of machinery, which, like the ./Eolian harp, passive, takes the impression of the passing accident; or do these workings argue something within us above the trodden clod...
Página 129 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back...
Página 252 - The Poet writes under one restriction only, namely, the necessity of giving immediate pleasure to a human Being possessed of that information which may be expected from him, not as a lawyer, a physician, a mariner, an astronomer, or a natural philosopher, but as a Man.
Página 7 - It is a metaphor, taken from a passive sense of the human body, and transferred to things which are in their essence not passive, — to intellectual acts and operations.
Página 254 - The objects of the Poet's thoughts are everywhere; though the eyes and senses of man are, it is true, his favourite guides, yet he will follow wheresoever he can find an atmosphere of sensation in which to move his wings.
Página 106 - I have some favourite flowers in spring, among which are the mountain-daisy, the hare-bell, the fox-glove, the wild brier-rose, the budding birch, and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight.
Página 125 - Neither let it be deemed too saucy a comparison to balance the highest point of man's wit with the efficacy of Nature ; but rather give right honour to the heavenly Maker of that maker, who, having made man to His own likeness, set him beyond and over all the works of that second nature : which in nothing he showeth so much as in Poetry, when with the force of a divine breath He bringeth things forth far surpassing her doings...
Página 171 - Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian...
Página 240 - That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height, Not an inch of his body is free from delight ; Can he keep himself still, if he would ? oh, not he ! The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.

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