The British Essayists: With Prefaces Biographical, Historical and Critical, Томове 25–26T. and J. Allman, 1823 |
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Страница 3
... carried on with sprightli- ness and elegance , and terminated at last in a recon- ciliation : but surely , whether the invectives with which they attack each other be true or false , they are too much degraded from the dignity of ...
... carried on with sprightli- ness and elegance , and terminated at last in a recon- ciliation : but surely , whether the invectives with which they attack each other be true or false , they are too much degraded from the dignity of ...
Страница 8
... carried the romantic , the wonderful , and the wild , to the most pleasing extravagance . The scene is a desolate island : and the characters the most new and singular that can well be con- ceived : a prince who practises magic , an ...
... carried the romantic , the wonderful , and the wild , to the most pleasing extravagance . The scene is a desolate island : and the characters the most new and singular that can well be con- ceived : a prince who practises magic , an ...
Страница 8
... carried on the machinery in his ' Rape of the Lock , ' with vast exuberance of fancy . The images , customs , and employments of his Sylphs , are exactly adapted to their natures , are peculiar and appropriated , are all , if I may be ...
... carried on the machinery in his ' Rape of the Lock , ' with vast exuberance of fancy . The images , customs , and employments of his Sylphs , are exactly adapted to their natures , are peculiar and appropriated , are all , if I may be ...
Страница 9
... carried the romantic , the wonderful , and the wild , to the most pleasing extravagance . The scene is a desolate island : and the characters the most new and singular that can well be con- ceived : a prince who practises magic , an ...
... carried the romantic , the wonderful , and the wild , to the most pleasing extravagance . The scene is a desolate island : and the characters the most new and singular that can well be con- ceived : a prince who practises magic , an ...
Страница 32
... her character She discovers her lover employed in the laborious task of carrying wood , which Prospero had 6 enjoined him to perform . Would , ' says 32 N ° 97 . ADVENTURER . Criticism treated as a Species of Disease Dodsley.
... her character She discovers her lover employed in the laborious task of carrying wood , which Prospero had 6 enjoined him to perform . Would , ' says 32 N ° 97 . ADVENTURER . Criticism treated as a Species of Disease Dodsley.
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acquainted ADVENTURER Almerine amusement ancient appearance bagnio beauty character CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS Clodio considered Corsica daugh daughter disappointed discovered distress dreadful dress elegant endeavoured entertain equal Euripides evil excel eyes fashion father favour fear Felicia felicity FITZ-ADAM Flavilla folly fortune frequently Fretters gentleman give Glastonbury thorn happiness heart Hilario honour hope humble servant humour imagination kind king knew labour lady less lived look Lord Lord CHESTERFIELD Madam mankind manner marriage Menander ment Mercator mind misery nature ness never night obliged observed paper passion perhaps person pity pleasure Posidippus pounds present Quintilian racter readers reason RICHARD OWEN CAMBRIDGE ridicule ROBERT DODSLEY Shelimah shew SOAME JENYNS Soliman sometimes soon suffered sure taste thee thing thou thought tion told truth virtue wife WILLIAM PULTENEY Wilson wish wretch writer
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Страница 26 - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Страница 8 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Страница 138 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Страница 139 - Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind ; says suum, mun ha no nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy ; sessa ! let him trot by. [Storm still. LEAK. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.
Страница 179 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant What place this is : and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments ; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night : Do not laugh at me ; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Страница 179 - Mine enemy's dog, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire ; and wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
Страница 53 - In the midst of the street of it and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month ; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
Страница 180 - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir.
Страница 8 - Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains, Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; Enrage, compose, with more than magic art ; With pity, and with terror, tear my heart ; And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air, To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
Страница 179 - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.