Literary Leaves, Том 2Thacker & Company, 1840 |
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... FAIR MAID , SONNET - NATURE , THE LADY TO HER BIRD , TO A LADY ON HER BIRTH - DAY , • 207 208 209 · • 210 233 234 236 THE PAST YEAR , · 299 TEN YEARS AND MORE , . • 300 STANZAS - ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG OFFICER IN INDIA , · 301 SONG - O ...
... FAIR MAID , SONNET - NATURE , THE LADY TO HER BIRD , TO A LADY ON HER BIRTH - DAY , • 207 208 209 · • 210 233 234 236 THE PAST YEAR , · 299 TEN YEARS AND MORE , . • 300 STANZAS - ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG OFFICER IN INDIA , · 301 SONG - O ...
Сторінка 7
... fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty ; This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning ; silent , bare , Ships , towers , domes , theatres , and temples lie Open unto the ...
... fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty ; This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning ; silent , bare , Ships , towers , domes , theatres , and temples lie Open unto the ...
Сторінка 10
... fair child of mine Shall sum my count , and make my old excuse— ' Proving his beauty by succession thine . This were to be new - made when thou art old , And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold . " The following lines , in ...
... fair child of mine Shall sum my count , and make my old excuse— ' Proving his beauty by succession thine . This were to be new - made when thou art old , And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold . " The following lines , in ...
Сторінка 12
... fair brow , Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen . " The pathos and melody of the ensuing sonnet will be imme- diately acknowledged by every reader of taste and sensibility . " No longer mourn for me when I am dead , Then you ...
... fair brow , Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen . " The pathos and melody of the ensuing sonnet will be imme- diately acknowledged by every reader of taste and sensibility . " No longer mourn for me when I am dead , Then you ...
Сторінка 13
... fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye : And in themselves their pride lies buriéd , For at a frown they in their glory die . " " So flatter I the swart - complexioned night . " " Thy glass will show thee how thy ...
... fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye : And in themselves their pride lies buriéd , For at a frown they in their glory die . " " So flatter I the swart - complexioned night . " " Thy glass will show thee how thy ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Addison admiration amongst Anna Seward appears beauty Ben Jonson breathe Byron Campbell character charm critic delight diction Don Quixote dramatic dreams Drummond Dryden English English language excellence exquisite Falstaff fame fancy feeling genius Grongar Hill hath Hazlitt heart human humour Iago imagination imitation intellectual Italian Johnson Knight language Leigh Hunt less literary literature living look Lord Lord Byron Massinger merit Milton mind Moore moral Muse nature never noble o'er object observed Othello passages passion perhaps Petrarch poems poet poet's poetical poetry Pope popular praise prose racter reader respect rhymes Roger de Coverley Sancho Sancho Panza says scene seems sense Shakespeare Shylock Sir Roger sonnets soul speak spirit stanza strange style sweet taste thee thine thing Thomas Moore thou thought tion Tory true truth uncle Toby verse vulgar Whig words Wordsworth writer written
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Сторінка 16 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Сторінка 130 - Of those fierce darts despair at me doth throw; 0 make in me those civil wars to cease; 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, A chamber deaf to noise...
Сторінка 12 - ... this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay, Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone.
Сторінка 13 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd 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...
Сторінка 193 - Tis not to make me jealous, To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well ; Where virtue is, these are more virtuous : Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt ; For she had eyes, and chose me. No, lago ; I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; And, on the proof, there is no more but this, — Away at once with love or jealousy!
Сторінка 192 - I'd make a life of jealousy ; To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions ? No ! to be once in doubt, Is once to be resolved.
Сторінка 319 - DUKE'S PALACE. [Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.] DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Сторінка 228 - As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if, by chance, he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and, if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to them.
Сторінка 297 - Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong, They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Сторінка 253 - Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part ; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us, — rest, thou art weary and worn...