The Indicator, Том 1Leigh Hunt J. Appleyard, 1820 |
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Сторінка 6
... human - kind , and yet in his heart and inclinations he sympathised with them . The want of this sym- pathy from others made him ireful , revengeful , impious . What moral can go to the heart of things more deeply than this ? This story ...
... human - kind , and yet in his heart and inclinations he sympathised with them . The want of this sym- pathy from others made him ireful , revengeful , impious . What moral can go to the heart of things more deeply than this ? This story ...
Сторінка 11
... human frailty . Give me Leave to enjoy myself . That place , that does Contain my books , the best companions , is To me a glorious court , where hourly I Converse with the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes for variety , I ...
... human frailty . Give me Leave to enjoy myself . That place , that does Contain my books , the best companions , is To me a glorious court , where hourly I Converse with the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes for variety , I ...
Сторінка 20
... human condition presses more forcibly upon us ; but some pleasant images are at hand even there to refresh it . They do not displace the others , so as to injure the sense of public duty which they excite ; they only serve to keep our ...
... human condition presses more forcibly upon us ; but some pleasant images are at hand even there to refresh it . They do not displace the others , so as to injure the sense of public duty which they excite ; they only serve to keep our ...
Сторінка 39
... human im- ages . Some were made of wax , some of stone , and others doubtless of any material for sculpture . They were represented with good- natured grinning countenances , were clothed in skins , and had little dogs at their feet ...
... human im- ages . Some were made of wax , some of stone , and others doubtless of any material for sculpture . They were represented with good- natured grinning countenances , were clothed in skins , and had little dogs at their feet ...
Сторінка 46
... human fish . Air is but a rarer fluid ; and at present , in this November weather , a supernatu- ral being who should look down upon us from a higher atmosphere , would have some reason to regard us as a kind of pedestrian carp . Now ...
... human fish . Air is but a rarer fluid ; and at present , in this November weather , a supernatu- ral being who should look down upon us from a higher atmosphere , would have some reason to regard us as a kind of pedestrian carp . Now ...
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admiration Alcmena appears Ariosto arriving round beautiful Ben Jonson better body busie curious eye C. H. Reynell called Catherine-street Cephalus Chaucer Dæmon death delight divine doth flie face fair fancy Farinonna father favourite fear feel flowers Galatea gentle gentleman give grace hand happy head heard heart heaven honour horse human imagination INDICATOR Italian Joseph Appleyard kind king kiss lady Lamia lived look Lord lover melancholy mind nature never Newsmen night nymph Orders received Ovid pain perhaps Petrarch pleasant pleasure poet poetry Printed by C. H. Procris Pygmalion reader Rhampsinitus round about doth seems Shakspeare shew sleep speak SPENSER spirit stick story survey with busie sweet takes survey Tasso tasteth tenderly Tavistock tears tell thee Theocritus thing thou thought told Triptolemus Turks turn Venice voice word young
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Сторінка 3 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank* Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Сторінка 347 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Сторінка 344 - Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away : Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day ; Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain ; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray ; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
Сторінка 347 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Сторінка 345 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Сторінка 88 - THE fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Сторінка 347 - There was a listening fear in her regard, As if calamity had but begun; As if the vanward clouds of evil days Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
Сторінка 11 - Give me leave To enjoy myself : that place that does contain My books, the best companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converse With the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels ; Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account, and, in my fancy, Deface their ill-plac'd statues.
Сторінка 44 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.
Сторінка 189 - Sirens' harmony, That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And sing to those that hold the vital shears, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and men is wound. Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie, To lull the daughters of Necessity, And keep unsteady Nature to her law, And the low world in measured motion draw After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear...