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addressed admiration appear beauty believe bless brother cause Charles Coleridge comfort coming copy criticism DEAR death delight expect expression eyes fancy fear feel felt four George give gone half hand happy Hazlitt head hear heart hope human interest keep kind lady Lamb Lamb's late leave less letter light lines living London look manner Mary mean memory mention mind Miss Moxon nature never night once passage perhaps picture pleasure poem poet poetry poor present reason received reference regard remember Review scarce seems seen sense sister sometimes sonnet soul spirit sweet tell thank things thou thought tion turned verses volume week wish WORDSWORTH write written wrote young
Сторінка 278 - They will remember that temper which years of pain, of sickness, of lameness, of confinement, seemed only to make sweeter and sweeter ; and that frank politeness, which at once relieved all the embarrassment of the youngest and most timid writer or artist, who found himself for the first time among Ambassadors and Earls.
Сторінка 39 - the former things are passed away,' and I have something more to do than to feel. " God Almighty have us well in his keeping. " C. LAMB." " Mention nothing of poetry. I have destroyed every vestige of past vanities of that kind. Do as you please, but if you publish, publish mine (I give free leave) without name or initial, and never send me a book, I charge you.
Сторінка 294 - Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Сторінка 277 - The time is coming when perhaps a few old men, the last survivors of our generation, will in vain seek, amidst new streets, and squares, and railway stations, fur the site of that dwelling which was in their youth the favourite resort of wits and beauties, of painters and poets, of scholars, philosophers, and statesmen. They will then remember, with strange tenderness, many objects...
Сторінка 137 - ... that he hurls it at the intruder, or not improbably in the first instant of awakening, while yet both his imagination and his eyes are possessed by the dream, he actually hurls it. Some weeks after, perhaps, during which interval he had often mused on the incident, undetermined whether to deem it a visitation of Satan to him in the body or out of the body, he discovers for the first time the dark spot on his wall, and receives it as a sign and pledge vouchsafed to him of the event having actually...
Сторінка 324 - Heroically fashioned — to infuse Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse, While the whole world seems adverse to desert. And, oh ! when Nature sinks, as oft she may, Through long-lived pressure of obscure distress, Still to be strenuous for the bright reward, And in the soul admit of no decay, Brook no continuance of weak-mindedness — Great is the glory, for the strife is hard ! XLIII.
Сторінка 236 - ... word escape him; on the contrary, he would often say, when his pains were most acute, ' I only wish it may please God to enable me to suffer without complaining; I have no right to complain.
Сторінка 327 - Glittering in golden coats, like images ; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at Midsummer ; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
Сторінка 344 - There was Lamb himself, the most delightful, the most provoking, the most witty and sensible of men. He always made the best pun, and the best remark in the course of the evening. His serious conversation, like his serious writing, is his best. No one ever stammered out such fine, piquant, deep, eloquent things in half a dozen half-sentences as he does. His jests scald like tears : and he probes a question with a play upon words.
Сторінка 356 - ... where daisies grow, The kindliest sprite earth holds within her breast ; In such a spot I would this frame should rest, When I to join my friend far hence shall go. His only mate is now the minstrel lark, Who chants her morning music o'er his bed, Save she who comes each evening, ere the bark Of watch-dog gathers drowsy folds, to shed A sister's tears. Kind Heaven, upon her head. Do thou in dove-like guise thy spirit pour, And in her aged path some flowerets spread Of earthly joy, should Time...