"Skyey" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... haunt thou not me, Thou vain Philosophy! Little hast thou bestead, Save to perplex the head, And leave the spirit dead. Unto thy broken cisterns wherefore go. While from the secret treasure-depths below, Fed by the skyey shower, And clouds that sink and rest on hill-tops high, Wisdom at once, and Power, Are welling, bubbling forth, unseen, incessantly? Why labor at the dull mechanic oar, When the fresh breeze is blowing, ...
— The World's Best Poetry Volume IV. • Bliss Carman
... the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers Lightning, my pilot, sits; In a cavern under is fettered the thunder; It struggles and howls at fits. Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the [v]genii that move In the ...
— The Literary World Seventh Reader • Various
... and the hundred-toned screams of souls in torture. The same moment, from halls of infinite scope, where the very air was a soft tumult of veiled melodies ever and anon twisted into inextricable knots of harmony—under whose skyey domes he swept upborne by chords of sound throbbing up against great wings mighty as thought yet in their motions as easy and subtle, he found himself lying on the floor of a huge vault, whose black slabs were worn into many hollows by the bare feet ...
— Thomas Wingfold, Curate • George MacDonald
... found his Morning-star all dimmed and dusky-red; the fair creature was silent, absent, she seemed to have been weeping. Alas, no longer a Morning-star, but a troublous skyey Portent, announcing that the Doomsday had dawned! She said, in a tremulous voice, They were to meet no more." The thunder-struck Air-sailor is not wanting to himself in this dread hour: but what avails it? We omit ...
— Sartor Resartus - The Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdrockh • Thomas Carlyle
... now perplexes. Let the oak increase His corrugated strength on strength, the palm Lift joint by joint her fan-fruit, ball and balm,— Let the coiled serpent bask in bloated peace,— The eagle, like some skyey derelict, Drift in the blue, suspended glorying,— The lion lord it by the desert-spring,— What know or care they of the power which pricked Nothingness to perfection? I, instead, When all-developed still am found a thing All-incomplete: for what though ...
— Browning's England - A Study in English Influences in Browning • Helen Archibald Clarke |
