The Works of James Russell LowellHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1890 |
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Сторінка 19
... thou wilt ! " That he used language with that intimate possession of its meaning possible only to the most vivid thought is doubtless true ; but that he wantonly strained it from its ordinary sense , that he found it too poor for his ...
... thou wilt ! " That he used language with that intimate possession of its meaning possible only to the most vivid thought is doubtless true ; but that he wantonly strained it from its ordinary sense , that he found it too poor for his ...
Сторінка 43
... thou mayst in me behold , When yellow leaves , or few , or none , do hang Upon those boughs that shake against the cold , Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang . " Or again : - " From thee have I been absent in the spring ...
... thou mayst in me behold , When yellow leaves , or few , or none , do hang Upon those boughs that shake against the cold , Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang . " Or again : - " From thee have I been absent in the spring ...
Сторінка 45
... thou givest in return ! If all this be accident , it is at least one of those accidents of which only this man was ever capable . I divine something like it now and then in Eschylus , through the mists of a language which will not let ...
... thou givest in return ! If all this be accident , it is at least one of those accidents of which only this man was ever capable . I divine something like it now and then in Eschylus , through the mists of a language which will not let ...
Сторінка 61
... the whole scale of human sentiment , from the homely common - sense of " When two men ride of one horse , one must ride behind , " to the transcendental subtilty of " No , Time , thou shalt not boast that SHAKESPEARE ONCE MORE 61.
... the whole scale of human sentiment , from the homely common - sense of " When two men ride of one horse , one must ride behind , " to the transcendental subtilty of " No , Time , thou shalt not boast that SHAKESPEARE ONCE MORE 61.
Сторінка 62
James Russell Lowell. " No , Time , thou shalt not boast that I do change ; Thy pyramids , built up with newer might , To me are nothing novel , nothing strange ; They are but dressings of a former sight , ' 99 was he alone so ...
James Russell Lowell. " No , Time , thou shalt not boast that I do change ; Thy pyramids , built up with newer might , To me are nothing novel , nothing strange ; They are but dressings of a former sight , ' 99 was he alone so ...
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artist Aurengzebe beauty Ben Jonson better birds blank verse called Canterbury Tales character charm Chaucer Coleridge conscious criticism Dante delightful doubt dramatists Dryden easy English expression familiar fancy feeling force French genius give Goethe Greek Hamlet hint ideal imagination JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL John Dryden Jonson judgment kind language Latin less literary literature living look Macbeth Marie de France meaning ment metrist Milton mind modern Molière moral nation never numbers once original Ovid passage passion perhaps phrase Piers Ploughman play poem poet poetic poetry Pope Preface prose Provençal rhyme Rutebeuf satire says seems sense sentiment Shake Shakespeare sing snow sometimes soul speak style sure tells thing thou thought tion tragedy Trouvères true truth ture versification Voltaire vulgar whole wholly winter words Wordsworth writing wrote
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Сторінка 76 - If to do were as easy as to know what were^ good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
Сторінка 43 - This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. BAN. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Сторінка 268 - Shortening his journey between morn and noon, And hurrying him, impatient of his stay, Down to the rosy west ; but kindly still Compensating his loss with added hours Of social converse and instructive ease, And...
Сторінка 299 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Сторінка 119 - For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the...
Сторінка 104 - Oxford to him a dearer name shall be, Than his own mother university. Thebes did his green, unknowing youth engage; He chooses Athens in his riper age.
Сторінка 299 - In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring...
Сторінка 122 - Nature has been to trim up the vegetable beaux; observe how sparkish a periwig adorns the head of a beech, and what a fine doublet of white satin is worn by the birch.
Сторінка 139 - Stretch'd on their decks, like weary oxen lie : Faint sweats all down their mighty members run, (Vast bulks, which little souls but ill supply.) In dreams they fearful precipices tread, • Or, shipwreck'd, labour to some distant shore ; Or in dark churches walk among the dead ; They wake with horror, and dare sleep no more.
Сторінка 41 - When proud-pied April dressed in all his trim Hath put a spirit of youth in everything', That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped 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, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the...