This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1849 edition. Excerpt: ... SONNET. Two lessons, Nature, let me learn of thee--Two lessons that in every wind are blown; Two blending duties, harmonis'd in one, Though the loud world proclaim their enmity; Of toil unsever'd from tranquillity: Of labour, that in one short hour outgrows Man's noisy schemes, accomplish'd in repose, Too ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1849 edition. Excerpt: ... SONNET. Two lessons, Nature, let me learn of thee--Two lessons that in every wind are blown; Two blending duties, harmonis'd in one, Though the loud world proclaim their enmity; Of toil unsever'd from tranquillity: Of labour, that in one short hour outgrows Man's noisy schemes, accomplish'd in repose, Too great for haste, too high for rivalry. Yes, while on earth a thousand discords ring, Man's weak complainings mingling with his toil, Still do thy sleepless ministers move on, Their glorious course in silence perfecting; Still working, chiding still our vain turmoil, Labourers that shall not fail, when man is gone. B----" Not by the j ustice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples overturn'd, Cold hearts and thankless tongues, where thanks due; Fell this late voice from lips that cannot lie, Stern sentence of the Powers of Destiny. I will unfold my sentence and my crime. My crime, that, rapt in reverential awe, I sate obedient, in the fiery prime Of youth, self-govern'd, at the feet of Law; Ennobling this dull pomp, the life of kings, By contemplation of diviner things. Herodotus, II. 133. My father lov'd inj ustice, and liv'd long; Crown'd with grey hairs he died, and full of sway. I lov'd the good he scorn'd, and hated wrong: The Gods declare my recompense to-day. I look'd for life more lasting, rule more high; And when six years are measur'd, lo, I die! Yet surely, o my people, did I deem Man's justice from the all-just Gods was given: A light that from some upper fount did beam, Some better archetype, whose seat was heaven; A light that, shining from the blest abodes, Did shadow somewhat of the life of Gods. Mere phantoms of man's self-tormenting heart, Which on the sweets that woo it...
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Seller's Description:
Near Fine. First edition. viii, 128 pp. Original ribbed dark green cloth elaborately block in blind with gilt spine lettering, pale yellow endpapers. Near Fine with a little wear at tips, hint of rubbing to cloth, front paste down slightly foxed, name written on front free endpaper. Lettering bright, cloth unfaded, blind designs quite distinct. A much better copy than most. The author's first book, a collection of poems published anonymously in an edition of only 500 copies. Arnold is generally regarded as the Victorian tastemaker par excellence for his cultural criticism.
