And this mighty master of the organ of language, who knew its every stop and pipe, who could awaken at will the thin silver tones ...of its slenderest reeds or the solemn cadence of its deepest thunder, who could make it sing like a flute or roar like a cataract, he was born into a country without literature.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
half-way up the hill, I see the Past Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights,--... A city in the twilight dim and vast, With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights,-- And hear above me on the autumnal blast The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story;... The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,... The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite: a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.--LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »