Critical and Miscellaneous Writings of T. Noon TalfourdCarey and Hart, 1842 - 354 страници |
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Страница 10
... deep and confiding - of love which does not shrink at the approach of ill , but looks on tempests and is never shaken , " because with these the world too rarely blossoms ! Were these things visionary and unreal , who would break the ...
... deep and confiding - of love which does not shrink at the approach of ill , but looks on tempests and is never shaken , " because with these the world too rarely blossoms ! Were these things visionary and unreal , who would break the ...
Страница 13
... deep awe of goodness , and walk- ing placidly at last , from the circle of her foes , none of them daring to harm her ! How pathetic , above all other pathos in the world , are those snatches of meditation which she commits to the paper ...
... deep awe of goodness , and walk- ing placidly at last , from the circle of her foes , none of them daring to harm her ! How pathetic , above all other pathos in the world , are those snatches of meditation which she commits to the paper ...
Страница 15
... deep than that of Roderick Random , but sweeter tinges of fancy are cast over it . The sphere in which Goldsmith's powers moved , was never very extensive , but , within it , he disco- vered all that was good , and shed on it the ...
... deep than that of Roderick Random , but sweeter tinges of fancy are cast over it . The sphere in which Goldsmith's powers moved , was never very extensive , but , within it , he disco- vered all that was good , and shed on it the ...
Страница 16
... deep and most benign . There is much , indeed of eloquent mysticism , but all evidently most heartfelt and sin- cere . The yearnings of the soul after universal good and intimate communion with the divine nature were never more nobly ...
... deep and most benign . There is much , indeed of eloquent mysticism , but all evidently most heartfelt and sin- cere . The yearnings of the soul after universal good and intimate communion with the divine nature were never more nobly ...
Страница 17
... deep vaults and lonely galleries . There is always majesty in her terrors . She produces more effect by whispers and slender hints than ever was attained by the most vivid display of horrors . Her conclusions are tame and impotent ...
... deep vaults and lonely galleries . There is always majesty in her terrors . She produces more effect by whispers and slender hints than ever was attained by the most vivid display of horrors . Her conclusions are tame and impotent ...
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admiration affections amidst appears bard beauty breath cause character colouring Coriolanus court criticism death deep delicate delight divine dream earth Edinburgh Review eloquence emotions eternal excite exhibit exquisite faculties fancy fantastic feeling genius gentle give glorious glory grace grandeur happy harmony Hazlitt heart heaven honour hope human Iago images imagination immortal inspired intense Julius Cæsar justice King's Bench less Lisbon living look Lord Lord Byron lordship majesty marriage Middle Temple mighty mind moral nature ness never Nisi Prius noble noblest Old Bailey once Othello passion pleasure poems poet poetical poetry racters render rich romance Rylstone scarcely scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare shed Sir Thomas Browne solemn sorrow soul species specta spirit strange sublime sweet sympathy Tagus taste Temple things thought tion touch tragedy truth vast virtue voice wild Wordsworth youth
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Страница 121 - Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea, Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Страница 118 - What then I was. 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, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Страница 122 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Страница 121 - I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Страница 120 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Страница 118 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man...
Страница 182 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Страница 79 - Still roll ; where all the aspects of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man...
Страница 104 - The appearance, instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city, boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a boundless depth, Far sinking into splendour — without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted; here, serene pavilions bright...
Страница 121 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing...