The Spirit of the Age, Or, Contemporary Portraits, Том 1H. Colburn, 1825 - 408 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 32
Сторінка 3
... side of the globe . His name is little known in England , better in Europe , best of all in the plains of Chili and the mines of Mexico . He has offered constitutions for the New World , and legis- lated for future times . The people of ...
... side of the globe . His name is little known in England , better in Europe , best of all in the plains of Chili and the mines of Mexico . He has offered constitutions for the New World , and legis- lated for future times . The people of ...
Сторінка 9
... side of his conclu- sions also is , that he has carried this single view of his subject too far , and not made sufficient allowance for the varieties of human nature , and the caprices and irregularities of the human will . " He has not ...
... side of his conclu- sions also is , that he has carried this single view of his subject too far , and not made sufficient allowance for the varieties of human nature , and the caprices and irregularities of the human will . " He has not ...
Сторінка 13
... side of the globe or to the ends of the universe , could our eyes behold whatever our reason teaches us to be possible , could our hands reach as far as our thoughts and wishes , we might then busy ourselves to advantage with the ...
... side of the globe or to the ends of the universe , could our eyes behold whatever our reason teaches us to be possible , could our hands reach as far as our thoughts and wishes , we might then busy ourselves to advantage with the ...
Сторінка 21
... side as a bedfellow ? Or his rolling himself into a ball to escape from him ? Or his suddenly placing himself . against a tree to avoid being trampled to death by the herd of wild buffaloes , that came rushing on like the sound of ...
... side as a bedfellow ? Or his rolling himself into a ball to escape from him ? Or his suddenly placing himself . against a tree to avoid being trampled to death by the herd of wild buffaloes , that came rushing on like the sound of ...
Сторінка 58
... side of a chrystal lake , hid by the mist , but glittering in the wave below , may conceive the dim , gleaming , uncertain in- telligence of his eye : he who has marked the evening clouds uprolled ( a world of vapours ) , has seen the ...
... side of a chrystal lake , hid by the mist , but glittering in the wave below , may conceive the dim , gleaming , uncertain in- telligence of his eye : he who has marked the evening clouds uprolled ( a world of vapours ) , has seen the ...
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration affectation argument beauty Bentham breath Caleb Williams candour character Cobbett Coleridge common common-place critic delight Edinburgh Review eloquence equally fancy feelings flowers French Revolution friends genius give Godwin grace ground habit hand heart Heaven honour House human idle imagination intellect Irving JEREMY BENTHAM less liberty light live look Lord Byron LORD ELDON Lyrical Ballads Malthus manner means ment mind modern moral Muse nature ness never object opinion pain passion perhaps person philosopher poem poet poetical poetry political popular prejudices pretensions pride principle quaint question racter reader reason Review Scotch sense sentiment servility Sir Francis Burdett Sir James Mackintosh Sir Walter Sir Walter Scott sort Southey speak spirit spleen striking style talent taste thing thought tion tone Tooke truth turn vanity verse virtue Whig wild word writings
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 339 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry ! Few, few, shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Сторінка 143 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Сторінка 58 - That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct As water is in water.
Сторінка 374 - High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded of things past, And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
Сторінка 238 - Out went the taper as she hurried in ; Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died: She closed the door, she panted, all akin To spirits of the air, and visions wide : No uttered syllable, or, woe betide...
Сторінка 338 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
Сторінка 70 - Diminished shrunk from the more withering scene ! Ah Bard tremendous in sublimity ! Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood Wandering at eve with finely frenzied eye Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood ! Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood : Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy ! LINES COMPOSED WHILE CLIMBING THE LEFT ASCENT OF BROCKLEY COOMB, SOMERSETSHIRE, MAY, 1795.
Сторінка 358 - Now upon Syria's land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And like a glory the broad sun Hangs over sainted Lebanon, Whose head in wintry grandeur towers And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer in a vale of flowers Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Сторінка 238 - Anon his heart revives : her vespers done, Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees; Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one; Loosens her fragrant bodice; by degrees Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees: Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Сторінка 145 - Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?