Shelburne Essays: Fourth series ...Houghton Mifflin, 1906 - 283 стор. |
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Сторінка 9
... Eye . [ De Quincey , apparently unknown to Hawker , had expressed the same fancy , and elsewhere Hawker finds confirmation of it in a line of Catullus . ] He did not disdain a version of mine ago : THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 9.
... Eye . [ De Quincey , apparently unknown to Hawker , had expressed the same fancy , and elsewhere Hawker finds confirmation of it in a line of Catullus . ] He did not disdain a version of mine ago : THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 9.
Сторінка 16
... fancy , he drew heavily on the small fortune of his wife , laying up for himself endless debts and difficulties in the future . He also built a vicar- age , in which he did not fail to embody some of his own original notions . " The ...
... fancy , he drew heavily on the small fortune of his wife , laying up for himself endless debts and difficulties in the future . He also built a vicar- age , in which he did not fail to embody some of his own original notions . " The ...
Сторінка 23
... to resemble . Southey's lines are clever and catch the fancy , and nothing more ; they have no back- ground of real terror . On the contrary , the full effect of Hawker's ballad is to be got by reading THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 23.
... to resemble . Southey's lines are clever and catch the fancy , and nothing more ; they have no back- ground of real terror . On the contrary , the full effect of Hawker's ballad is to be got by reading THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 23.
Сторінка 49
... ment for the flowers of fancy or the weeds of vice . Charlotte was of that type , and to find any par- allel for her court , with its petty formalism , narrowness of view , and rigid conceit , one must 4 FANNY BURNEY 49.
... ment for the flowers of fancy or the weeds of vice . Charlotte was of that type , and to find any par- allel for her court , with its petty formalism , narrowness of view , and rigid conceit , one must 4 FANNY BURNEY 49.
Сторінка 71
... fancy she no doubt saw and trembled for : She continued there with him , and still kept him in a moderate awe of her self , and so much under her own eye , as to see and converse with him daily ; but she man- aged this power over him ...
... fancy she no doubt saw and trembled for : She continued there with him , and still kept him in a moderate awe of her self , and so much under her own eye , as to see and converse with him daily ; but she man- aged this power over him ...
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Сторінка 249 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistening with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Сторінка 99 - Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Сторінка 119 - Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Сторінка 202 - And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. 242 For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Сторінка 119 - Darkling I listen ; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain...
Сторінка 120 - Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Сторінка 215 - In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
Сторінка 213 - Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later delicate death.
Сторінка 102 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise: Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Сторінка 92 - I should (said He) Bestow this jewel also on My creature, He would adore My gifts instead of Me, And rest in nature, not the God of nature : So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness : Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.