Schiller's poems

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H. Holt, 1905 - German literature - 381 pages
 

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Page 246 - Poetry is indeed something divine. It is at once the centre and circumference of knowledge; it is that which comprehends all science, and that to which all science must be referred. It is at the same time the root and blossom of all other systems of thought...
Page 221 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Page 371 - Mecoenas is yclad in claye, And great Augustus long ygoe is dead, And all the worthies liggen wrapt in leade, That matter made for Poets on to play: For ever who in derring doe were dreade, The loftie verse of hem was loved aye.
Page 258 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
Page 246 - ... that application of analytical reasoning to the aberrations of society, which it is now attempted to exalt over the direct expression of the inventive and creative faculty itself.
Page 246 - What were virtue, love, patriotism, friendship— what were the scenery of this beautiful universe which we inhabit; what were our consolations on this side of the grave— and what were our aspirations beyond it, if poetry did not ascend to bring light and fire from those eternal regions where the owl-winged faculty of calculation dare not ever soar? Poetry is not like reasoning, a power to be exerted according to the determination of the will. A man cannot say, "I will compose poetry.
Page 249 - ... altering and compounding those images, which we have once received, into all the varieties of picture and vision that are most agreeable to the imagination ; for by this faculty a man in a dungeon is capable of entertaining himself with scenes and landscapes more beautiful than any that can be found in the whole compass of nature.
Page xli - At the close of the eighteenth and the opening of the nineteenth century we find Schiller devoting his lyric talent more largely than at any previous time to occasional poetry.
Page 363 - . and shall spirit die ? Above the nobler shall less noble rise ? Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, No resurrection know? shall man alone, Imperial man ! be sown in barren ground, Less privileged than grain on which he feeds...
Page 217 - So spake the Son : but Satan, with his Powers, Far was advanced on winged speed : an host Innumerable as the stars of night; Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun Impearls on every leaf and every flower.

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