The Autobiography of Leigh HuntSmith, Elder, 1870 - 412 стор. |
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Сторінка vi
... head over a book or over the desk . At some periods of his life he rose early , in order that he might get to work early ; in other periods he rose late , because he sat over the desk very late . For the most part , how- ever , he ...
... head over a book or over the desk . At some periods of his life he rose early , in order that he might get to work early ; in other periods he rose late , because he sat over the desk very late . For the most part , how- ever , he ...
Сторінка vii
... head was high , his forehead straight and white , his eyes black and sparkling , his general complexion dark . There was in his whole carriage and manner an extraordinary degree of life . Years and trouble had obscured that brilliancy ...
... head was high , his forehead straight and white , his eyes black and sparkling , his general complexion dark . There was in his whole carriage and manner an extraordinary degree of life . Years and trouble had obscured that brilliancy ...
Сторінка xiii
... head and heart . To know Leigh Hunt as he was , was to hold him in reverence and love . The likeness to Hamlet was not lost even in a sort of aggressive conscientiousness . It affected his appreciation of character , which was , of ...
... head and heart . To know Leigh Hunt as he was , was to hold him in reverence and love . The likeness to Hamlet was not lost even in a sort of aggressive conscientiousness . It affected his appreciation of character , which was , of ...
Сторінка 8
... head , as not only laid him swooning in the cart , but dimmed his sight for life . At length , after being carried through every street in Philadelphia , he was deposited , as Dr. Kearsley had been , in a prison in Market Street . The ...
... head , as not only laid him swooning in the cart , but dimmed his sight for life . At length , after being carried through every street in Philadelphia , he was deposited , as Dr. Kearsley had been , in a prison in Market Street . The ...
Сторінка 22
... up the cloisters , with that weary hang of the head on one side , and that melancholy smile ! One holiday , in a severe winter , as she was taking mo home , she was petitioned for charity by a woman 22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LEIGH HUNT .
... up the cloisters , with that weary hang of the head on one side , and that melancholy smile ! One holiday , in a severe winter , as she was taking mo home , she was petitioned for charity by a woman 22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LEIGH HUNT .
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acquainted admiration afterwards appeared beautiful believe better Boccaccio boys brother called captain character Charles Lamb CHARLOTTE Bronte Christ Hospital church Coleridge critics delight Della Cruscans England English eyes face fancied father favourite feeling gave genius Genoa Genoese give good-natured grace habit Hampstead hand handsome head heard heart honour Horace Smith imagination Italian Italy kind knew lady Leigh Leigh Hunt Lerici lived look Lord Byron Lord Castlereagh Lord Holland manner master mind mother nature never night noble opinion perhaps person Pisa play pleasant pleasure poem poet political prison reader reason recollection respect seemed sense Shelley side sight sort speak spirit street suffered supposed taste things thought tion told took truth turned Tuscany Venus verses Vincent Novello voice Voltaire Whig wife word writing wrote young
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Сторінка 232 - I will be wise, And just, and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power, for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize Without reproach or check.
Сторінка 57 - Ramothgilead to battle, or shall I forbear? And they said, Go up; for the LORD shall deliver it into the hand of the king.
Сторінка 239 - For Heaven's sake let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings...
Сторінка 364 - I know each lane, and every alley green, Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side, My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood...
Сторінка 232 - I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why : until there rose From the near schoolroom voices that alas ! Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
Сторінка 241 - I am sorry to say that your conduct is not extraordinary; and if my own seems to amaze you, I will tell you something which may amaze you a little more, and I hope will frighten you. It is such men as you who madden the spirits and the patience of the poor and wretched; and if ever a convulsion comes in this country, (which is very probable,) recollect what I tell you: you will have your house, that you refuse to put the miserable woman into, burnt over your head.
Сторінка 93 - Then maids and youths shall linger here, And while its sounds at distance swell, Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest...
Сторінка 232 - Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass. I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep : a fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why: until there rose From the near school-room, voices, that, alas!
Сторінка 26 - It was now the middle of May, and the morning was remarkably serene, when Mr. Allworthy walked forth on the terrace, where the dawn opened every minute that lovely prospect we have before described to his eye ; and now having sent forth streams of light, which ascended the blue firmament before him, as harbingers preceding his pomp...
Сторінка 193 - Then let your style be brief, your meaning clear, Nor, like Lorenzo, tire the labouring ear With a wild waste of words ; sound without sense, And all the florid glare of impotence. Still, with your characters your language change, — From grave to gay, as nature dictates, range : Now droop in all the plaintiveness of woe, — (! !) Now in glad numbers light and airy flow ; Now shake the stage with guilt's alarming tone, ( ! !) And make the aching bosom all your own" Was there ever a fonder set of...