An Inquiry Into the Nature and Extent of Poetick License

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J. Mackinlay, 1810 - 338 страници
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Страница 306 - I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was. Man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream.
Страница 328 - Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Страница 305 - The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy ; Or, in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear ! Hip.
Страница 322 - Be lion-mettled, proud and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him.
Страница 305 - Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of? The. More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact.
Страница 334 - With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests ; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born.
Страница 334 - That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.
Страница 266 - He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows, Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod, The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god : High Heaven with trembling the dread signal took, And all Olympus to the centre shook.
Страница 327 - My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man, that function Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is, But what is not. Macb. If chance will have me king ; why, chance may crown me, Without my stir.
Страница 306 - The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen ; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was.

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