Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and PeopleHarper, 1852 - 558 страници |
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Страница 11
... death ; it is even uncertain that Raleigh was the author ; but that it is of that age is beyond all doubt ; so is its extraordinary beauty - a beauty quite free from the conceits which deform too many of our finest old lyrics . Go ...
... death ; it is even uncertain that Raleigh was the author ; but that it is of that age is beyond all doubt ; so is its extraordinary beauty - a beauty quite free from the conceits which deform too many of our finest old lyrics . Go ...
Страница 17
... death of fire , that noble maid they bore , She only smiled - O'Driscoll's child ! —she thought of Baltimore ! ' Tis two long years since sank the town beneath that bloody band , And all around its trampled hearths a larger concourse ...
... death of fire , that noble maid they bore , She only smiled - O'Driscoll's child ! —she thought of Baltimore ! ' Tis two long years since sank the town beneath that bloody band , And all around its trampled hearths a larger concourse ...
Страница 20
... death they rush , but rude their shock , not unavenged they died . On , through the camp the column trod , King Louis turned his rein : " Not yet , my liege , " Saxe interposed , " the Irish troops remain . ” And Fontenoy , famed ...
... death they rush , but rude their shock , not unavenged they died . On , through the camp the column trod , King Louis turned his rein : " Not yet , my liege , " Saxe interposed , " the Irish troops remain . ” And Fontenoy , famed ...
Страница 38
... death , the night . My house , a cottage more Than palace ; and should fitting be For all my use , no luxury . My garden painted o'er With nature's hand , not art's ; and pleasures yield , Horace might envy in his Sabine field . " Thus ...
... death , the night . My house , a cottage more Than palace ; and should fitting be For all my use , no luxury . My garden painted o'er With nature's hand , not art's ; and pleasures yield , Horace might envy in his Sabine field . " Thus ...
Страница 41
... death , making in one of his letters a kind commemoration of the happiness which they two had enjoyed together , he adds at last , that he thought it no disparagement to those qualifications of their life , that , in the midst of the ...
... death , making in one of his letters a kind commemoration of the happiness which they two had enjoyed together , he adds at last , that he thought it no disparagement to those qualifications of their life , that , in the midst of the ...
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admirable ballads beauty Ben Jonson bird Bonny Dundee Bradshaigh bright brother called charming dear death delight doth EACUS English EURIPIDES eyes fair father fear feeling flowers Gelert gentlemen Gerald Griffin give Goodere grace hand happy hath hear heard heart Hepzibah honor horse Joanna Baillie kind King Klopstock knew Kyng lady laughed letters light live look Lord Mahony maid MARY RUSSELL MITFORD mignonette morning murder never night noble o'er once Pan is dead passed person pleasure poems poet poetry poor praise round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seemed sing smile Soggarth aroon song spirit story SWALLOWFIELD sweet tears tell thee There's thing thou thought took trees Twas Ufton Court verse walk wild Winthrop Mackworth Praed wirra-sthru wonder words write wyfe XANTHIAS young youth
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Страница 540 - Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend.
Страница 388 - Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows ? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ? God ! — let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God...
Страница 527 - Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness: The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find ; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds and other seas, Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade.
Страница 431 - Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part. Nay, I have done; you get no more of me, And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free; Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.
Страница 173 - And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.
Страница 234 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Страница 420 - O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Страница 139 - Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last. What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night ? 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave : And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave.
Страница 314 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Страница 130 - The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labors, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary and cannot impart it; till I am known and do not want it.