Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Інші видання - Показати все
Relics of genius: visits to the last homes of poets, painters, and players
T P. Grinsted
Повний перегляд - 1859
Relics of Genius: Visits to the Last Homes of Poets, Painters, and Players
T P Grinsted
Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2016
actor admirable appeared artist bard beautiful became Ben Jonson beneath bust Byron career celebrated character Charles Charles Bannister Charles Lamb church of St churchyard Coleridge College Collins commenced Covent Garden death died drama dramatist Drury Lane Drury Lane Theatre Dryburgh Dryburgh Abbey Edinburgh Edmund Kean erected fame father favour favourite Garrick genius George GEORGE CRABBE grave heart HENRY KIRKE WHITE honour Horace Walpole inscription interred James JAMES HOGG JAMES QUIN John Kean King labours later likewise Lord Madame Vestris memory metropolis monument painted painter parish passed Paul's placed play poems poet poet's poetic poetry Pope portraits possessed received remains resided rest retired returned to England Robert Robert Burns Royal Academy sacred sculptured Shakspeare song Southey spirit stage subsequently tablet Theatre thee Thomas tion tomb verses visited Walter Scott Westminster Abbey whilst WILLIAM writing young
Сторінка 215 - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving; And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Сторінка 228 - I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine : And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft — Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.
Сторінка 222 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to sooth, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Сторінка 193 - Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves! And kindle, thou blue Ocean! So my friend Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood, Silent with swimming sense; yea, gazing round On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem Less gross than bodily; and of such hues As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes Spirits perceive his presence.
Сторінка 1 - No: there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a remembrance of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the living.
Сторінка 33 - Laud be to God ! — even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem ; Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land. — But bear me to that chamber ; there I'll lie ; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.
Сторінка 24 - We are not here to sell a parcel of boilers and vats, but the potentiality of growing rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
Сторінка 261 - Though it cost the schoolmaster some thrashings, I made an excellent English scholar; and by the time I was ten or eleven years of age, I was a critic in substantives, verbs, and particleS.
Сторінка 260 - No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, ' No storied urn nor animated bust ;' This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.
Сторінка 230 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light. My Mary ! For, could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me. My Mary ! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet, gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary...