Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, Том 1 |
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Many of my extracts will be found to comprise the best bits of neglected authors ;
and some , I think , as the noble murder speech of Daniel Webster , the poems of
Thomas Davis , of Mrs . James Gray , of Mr . Darley , of Mr . Noel , and of Dr ...
Many of my extracts will be found to comprise the best bits of neglected authors ;
and some , I think , as the noble murder speech of Daniel Webster , the poems of
Thomas Davis , of Mrs . James Gray , of Mr . Darley , of Mr . Noel , and of Dr ...
Сторінка 13
Even the story of the Heir of Lynne must remain untold ; and I must content myself
with two of the shortest and least hacknied poems in a book that for great and
varied interest can hardly be surpassed . “ The Lie , ” is said to have been written
...
Even the story of the Heir of Lynne must remain untold ; and I must content myself
with two of the shortest and least hacknied poems in a book that for great and
varied interest can hardly be surpassed . “ The Lie , ” is said to have been written
...
Сторінка 15
Bishop Percy calls it a “ Translation from the Antient British , " probably to veil the
real writer . We find it included among Gilbert Cooper ' s poems , a diamond
amongst pebbles ; he never could have written it . It has been claimed for
Steevens ...
Bishop Percy calls it a “ Translation from the Antient British , " probably to veil the
real writer . We find it included among Gilbert Cooper ' s poems , a diamond
amongst pebbles ; he never could have written it . It has been claimed for
Steevens ...
Сторінка 19
It is difficult to believe , but the editor of his poems dwells upon it as a well -
known fact , that up to this time the author of “ The Sack of Baltimore ” had never
written a line of verse in his life , and was , indeed , far less sanguine than his ...
It is difficult to believe , but the editor of his poems dwells upon it as a well -
known fact , that up to this time the author of “ The Sack of Baltimore ” had never
written a line of verse in his life , and was , indeed , far less sanguine than his ...
Сторінка 41
... but by no means so well calculated to make a volume of poems extensively
known . Hence it is that the elegant and graphic description of Thames scenery
which I subjoin , although it has been published nearly ten years , will probably
have ...
... but by no means so well calculated to make a volume of poems extensively
known . Hence it is that the elegant and graphic description of Thames scenery
which I subjoin , although it has been published nearly ten years , will probably
have ...
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admirable appeared beautiful better bright brought called character charming dead dear death delight doubt English eyes face fair fall father fear feeling field flowers gave give grace half hand happy head hear heard heart hope horse hour kind King knew Kyng lady learned leave less light live London look Lord means mind morning nature never night o'er once passed perhaps person play pleasure poems poet poor rise rose round seemed seen short side smile song soon sound stand story sure sweet tell thee things thou thought took town trees true turned verse walk whole writer young
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Сторінка 325 - UNDERNEATH this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, SIDNEY'S sister, PEMBROKE'S mother ; Death ! ere thou hast slain another, Learn'd and fair, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Сторінка 319 - Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep> Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st...
Сторінка 86 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Сторінка 262 - Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle...
Сторінка 237 - for Aix is in sight ! " "How they'll greet us!" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Сторінка 311 - It is accomplished. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. He has done the murder; no eye has seen him, no ear has heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe! Ah!
Сторінка 80 - Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, Memories haunt thy pointed gables like the rooks that round them throng : Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old ; And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, That their great imperial city stretched its hand...
Сторінка 262 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
Сторінка 192 - We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring! As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing. We die, As your hours do, and dry Away Like to the Summer's rain; Or as the pearls of morning's dew Ne'er to be found again.
Сторінка 234 - Will't please you sit and look at her? I said "Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, The depth and passion of its earnest glance, But to myself they turned (since none puts by The curtain I have...