Literary Leaves; Or, Prose and Verse Chiefly Written in India, Том 2W.H. Allen & Company, 1840 |
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Сторінка 6
... charm which they would have acquired by a more rigid adherence to the Italian model . Of later years a more intimate acquaintance with Italian literature It was Ben Jonson who first made use of this now stale comparison ; " He cursed ...
... charm which they would have acquired by a more rigid adherence to the Italian model . Of later years a more intimate acquaintance with Italian literature It was Ben Jonson who first made use of this now stale comparison ; " He cursed ...
Сторінка 7
... charm of rhyme . There is no precise limit to the number or position of the pauses , and the lines may so run over into each other , that the cloying effect of a too frequent and palpable recurrence of the same terminations need never ...
... charm of rhyme . There is no precise limit to the number or position of the pauses , and the lines may so run over into each other , that the cloying effect of a too frequent and palpable recurrence of the same terminations need never ...
Сторінка 42
... the heart . The transient charm hath lost its power , - Indignant pride shall now rebel ; For , cold and false One ! from this hour , My soul is free - Farewell ! -Farewell ! SUMMER AND WINTER . [ WRITTEN IN INDIA IN THE [ 42 ]
... the heart . The transient charm hath lost its power , - Indignant pride shall now rebel ; For , cold and false One ! from this hour , My soul is free - Farewell ! -Farewell ! SUMMER AND WINTER . [ WRITTEN IN INDIA IN THE [ 42 ]
Сторінка 52
... charm and cheer us ever . Though youth hath vanished , like a winding river Lost in the shadowy woods ; and the dear sight Of native hill and nest - like cottage white , ' Mid breeze - stirred boughs whose crisp leaves gleam and quiver ...
... charm and cheer us ever . Though youth hath vanished , like a winding river Lost in the shadowy woods ; and the dear sight Of native hill and nest - like cottage white , ' Mid breeze - stirred boughs whose crisp leaves gleam and quiver ...
Сторінка 78
... charm a hermit's soul , and scarce recalls When the chance wanderer breaks the solitude A dream of social life ! There MAGDALINE , Fled from the false world's glare , unsuited ever To grief's dark night , as radiance to the tomb , Her ...
... charm a hermit's soul , and scarce recalls When the chance wanderer breaks the solitude A dream of social life ! There MAGDALINE , Fled from the false world's glare , unsuited ever To grief's dark night , as radiance to the tomb , Her ...
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Addison admiration alluded amongst Anna Seward appears beauty Ben Jonson Byron Campbell character charm critic delight diction Don Quixote dramatic dreams Drummond Dryden English English language excellence expression exquisite Falstaff fame fancy feeling genius Grongar Hill hath Hazlitt heart human humour Iago imagination imitation intellect Johnson language Leigh Hunt less lines literary literature living look Lord Lord Byron Massinger merit Milton mind Moore moral Muse nature never noble o'er object observed Othello passages passion perhaps Petrarch poems poet poet's poetical poetry Pope popular praise prose racter reader remarkable respect rhyme Roger de Coverley Sancho Sancho Panza says seems sense Shakespeare Shylock Sir Roger sonnets soul Southey speak spirit stanza strange style sweet taste thee thine thing Thomas Moore thou thought tion Tory true truth uncle Toby verse vulgar Whig Wordsworth writer written
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Сторінка 159 - Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Сторінка 10 - ... 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 14 - 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 11 - 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 179 - 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 25 - Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all triumphant splendour on my brow, But out, alack, he was but one hour mine; The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
Сторінка 214 - As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if, by chance, he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and, if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to them.
Сторінка 7 - Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Сторінка 237 - And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part ; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us ! — rest ; thou art weary and worn...
Сторінка 9 - When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held...