The Life and Letters of John Gibson Lockhart, Том 1

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Сторінка 199 - Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works. My own domestic criticism has given me pain without comparison beyond what Blackwood or the Quarterly could possibly inflict— and also when I feel I am right, no external praise can give me such a glow as my own solitary reperception and ratification of what is fine. JS is perfectly right in regard to the slipshod Endymion.
Сторінка 331 - His hair was curled in order, At the rising of the sun, In comely rows and buckles smart That about his ears did run ; And, before, there was a toupee That some inches up did grow, And behind there was a long queue, That did o'er his shoulders flow. Oh ! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo'e ! And whenever we foregathered He took off his wee
Сторінка 331 - Touch once more a sober measure, and let punch and tears be shed, For a prince of good old fellows, that, alack-a-day, is dead ! For a prince of worthy fellows, and a pretty man also, That has left the Saltmarket in sorrow, grief, and wo. : Oh, we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo...
Сторінка 151 - He understands many a beautiful thing; but then, instead of giving other minds credit for the same degree of perception as he himself possesses— he begins an explanation in such a curious manner that our taste and self-love is offended continually. Hunt does one harm by making fine things petty and beautiful things hateful...
Сторінка 317 - I ride from land to land, I sail from sea to sea ; Some day more kind I fate may find, Some night kiss thee.
Сторінка 152 - Hunt does one harm by making fine things petty, and beautiful things hateful. Through him I am indifferent to Mozart, I care not for white Busts — and many a glorious thing when associated with him becomes a nothing.
Сторінка 330 - In the currents of Life, in the tempests of motion, Hither and thither, Over and under, Wend I and wander, Birth and the grave, A limitless ocean Where the restless wave Undulates ever, — Under and over In the toiling strife I mingle and hover, The spirit of life ; And hear the murmuring wheel of time, unawed, As I weave the living mantle of God...
Сторінка 198 - Devonshire — whither I shall follow him. At present, I am just arrived at Dorking — to change the Scene — change the Air, and give me a spur to wind up my Poem, of /which there are wanting 500 lines. I should have been here a day sooner, but the Reynoldses persuaded me to stop in Town to meet your friend Christie.
Сторінка 151 - ... screams ! When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams ? When, from the sun, was thy broad forehead hid ? How long is't since the mighty power bid Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams ? Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams, Or when grey clouds are thy cold coverlid. Thou...
Сторінка 333 - And Corkindale could do, It was plain from twenty symptoms, That death was in his view; So the Captain made his test'ment, And submitted to his foe, And we...

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