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acquainted Addison admirable afterwards appeared appointed became began Ben Jonson born Burke Byron called career Carlyle character Charles Chaucer Church Coleridge Congreve contemporaries critic death doubt dramatists Dryden Edinburgh Edinburgh Review edition Elizabethan era England English English poetry Essay excellent Faerie Queen fame father favour favourite fortune French Revolution friends genius Goldsmith greatest History Hudibras humour Iliad imagination Isaac Bickerstaff John Johnson language letters literary literature lived London Lord Macaulay Matthew Arnold merit Milton mind moral nature never novels opinions Oxford Paradise Lost passion period plays poem poet poetical poetry political Pope Pope's popular possessed praise prose writer publication published Queen reader satire says Scott Shakespeare Smollett society Sonnets soon spirit style talents taste thought tion Tom Jones translation Tristram Shandy verse volumes Whig William Davenant Wordsworth writings written wrote youth
Страница 123 - I modestly but freely told him ; and, after some further discourse about it, I pleasantly said to him, ' Thou hast said much here of Paradise Lost, but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found...
Страница 273 - After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame.
Страница 62 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case ; I read it in thy looks ; thy languisht grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries...
Страница 85 - He was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul, All the images of Nature were still present to him, and he drew them, not laboriously, but luckily: when he describes any thing, you more than see it, you feel it too.
Страница 116 - Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold! Of other care they little reckoning make Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest; Blind mouths!
Страница 92 - His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was lest he should make an end.
Страница 111 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former.
Страница 72 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. — Her lips suck forth my soul : see, where it flies ! — Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Страница 156 - Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out; it is always near at hand, and sits upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, and sets a man's invention upon the rack, and one trick needs a great many more to make it good.
Страница 247 - In this poem there is no nature, for there is no truth; there is no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is that of a pastoral, easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting: whatever images it can supply, are long ago exhausted; and its inherent improbability always forces dissatisfaction on the mind.