Literary leaves, or, Prose and verse: chiefly written in India, Томи 1 – 2W. H. Allen & Company, 1840 |
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Сторінка 19
... silent deep ! IV . [ SUN - RISE . ] The stars have melted in the morning air , — The white moon waneth dim . - The glorious sun , Slow - rising from the cold cerulean main , Now shoots through broken clouds his upward beams , That ...
... silent deep ! IV . [ SUN - RISE . ] The stars have melted in the morning air , — The white moon waneth dim . - The glorious sun , Slow - rising from the cold cerulean main , Now shoots through broken clouds his upward beams , That ...
Сторінка 21
... silent beauty on my soul , And , like a cheerful sun - burst on my way , Revive a transient joy ! VI . [ NIGHT . ] The day - beams slowly fade , and shadowy night , Soft as a gradual dream , serenely steals Over the watery waste . Like ...
... silent beauty on my soul , And , like a cheerful sun - burst on my way , Revive a transient joy ! VI . [ NIGHT . ] The day - beams slowly fade , and shadowy night , Soft as a gradual dream , serenely steals Over the watery waste . Like ...
Сторінка 37
... interchange of soul is ours , A silent converse o'er the waters wide , And Fancy's spell can speed the lingering hours , And fill the space that yearning hearts divide . III . And not alone the written symbols show Your [ 37 ]
... interchange of soul is ours , A silent converse o'er the waters wide , And Fancy's spell can speed the lingering hours , And fill the space that yearning hearts divide . III . And not alone the written symbols show Your [ 37 ]
Сторінка 40
... silent as the grave . The smallest bird its light wing could not lave In the smooth flood , nor from the green - wood soar , If but the tiniest branch its pinions stirred Or shook the dew - drops from the leaves , unheard . Like ...
... silent as the grave . The smallest bird its light wing could not lave In the smooth flood , nor from the green - wood soar , If but the tiniest branch its pinions stirred Or shook the dew - drops from the leaves , unheard . Like ...
Сторінка 62
... silent fields , till glittering bright O'er the green orient mount the fresh day shone ; How have I joyed to mark yon hoary Tower Unfolding slowly , ' neath the morning beams , His misty mantle grey ! -In such an hour , To ...
... silent fields , till glittering bright O'er the green orient mount the fresh day shone ; How have I joyed to mark yon hoary Tower Unfolding slowly , ' neath the morning beams , His misty mantle grey ! -In such an hour , To ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration alluded amongst Anna Seward Atossa beauty Ben Jonson blank verse Bolingbroke breath bright Byron character Charlotte Smith charm cheerful Clearchus clouds cold conversation critics dear death delightful dreams Drummond Dryden Duchess of Marlborough egotism egotist external fair fame fancy feeling friendship genius glory happy hath heart Horace Walpole human imagination intellectual John Chalkhill Johnson Leigh Hunt less letters light lines literary look Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Byron mankind memory merit Milton mind Montaigne mortal Muse nature never o'er object observed Othello passage passion perhaps Petrarch physiognomy pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise prose reader remarks rhyme says scene seems Shakespeare smile sonnets soul sound speak spirit stanza strange style sweet taste tender thee thine thing thou thought tion truth verse words Wordsworth writer
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 130 - Of those fierce darts despair at me doth throw; 0 make in me those civil wars to cease; 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, A chamber deaf to noise...
Сторінка 127 - Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
Сторінка 267 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Сторінка 342 - IX. 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Сторінка 16 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Сторінка 95 - Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
Сторінка 12 - ... this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay, Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone.
Сторінка 13 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell...
Сторінка 193 - Where virtue is, these are more virtuous ; Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt ; For she had eyes, and chose me. No, lago ; I'll see before I doubt ; when I doubt, prove: And on the proof, there is no more but this, — Away at once with love or jealousy ! lago.
Сторінка 89 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar...