English Men of Letters: Byron, by John Nichol, 1894; Shelley, by John Addinton Symonds, 1895; Keats, by Sidney Colvin, 1899Macmillan and Company, 1894 |
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Сторінка 12
... , peculiarly inquisitive and puzzling about religion . Of the sense of solitude , induced by his earliest impressions , he characteristically makes a boast . " My daughter , my wife , my half - sister , 12 [ CHAP . BYRON .
... , peculiarly inquisitive and puzzling about religion . Of the sense of solitude , induced by his earliest impressions , he characteristically makes a boast . " My daughter , my wife , my half - sister , 12 [ CHAP . BYRON .
Сторінка 76
... sense of melody , and a flow of rhythm and rhyme , which mastered Moore and even Scott on their own ground . None of them are wanting in passages , as " He who hath bent him o'er the dead , " and the description of Alp leaning against a ...
... sense of melody , and a flow of rhythm and rhyme , which mastered Moore and even Scott on their own ground . None of them are wanting in passages , as " He who hath bent him o'er the dead , " and the description of Alp leaning against a ...
Сторінка 82
... sense , regretted the almost fatal incontinence which , in the year of his greatest private troubles , led his friend to make a parade of them before the public . He speaks more than once of his unhappy tendency to exhibit himself as ...
... sense , regretted the almost fatal incontinence which , in the year of his greatest private troubles , led his friend to make a parade of them before the public . He speaks more than once of his unhappy tendency to exhibit himself as ...
Сторінка 90
... sense , and was ready to profit by the experience and tact of " the cleverest of women . " But her well - meant advice had unfortunate results , for it was on her suggestion that he became a suitor for the hand of her niece , Miss ...
... sense , and was ready to profit by the experience and tact of " the cleverest of women . " But her well - meant advice had unfortunate results , for it was on her suggestion that he became a suitor for the hand of her niece , Miss ...
Сторінка 93
... sense of the word , loved more than any other human being . Tolerant of errors , which she lamented , and violences in which she had no share , she had a touch of their common family pride , most conspicuous in an almost cat - like ...
... sense of the word , loved more than any other human being . Tolerant of errors , which she lamented , and violences in which she had no share , she had a touch of their common family pride , most conspicuous in an almost cat - like ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
admiration afterwards beauty brother Brown Bysshe called canto character charm Childe Harold criticism daughter death delight Don Juan early Endymion England English expression eyes fancy Fanny Brawne father feeling genius George Keats Giaour Godwin Greek Guiccioli Hampstead hand Harriet Haydon heart Hogg Houghton MSS human Hunt's Hyperion imagination John John Keats Keats Keats's Lady later Leigh Hunt letter lines literary lived London Lord Byron Lord Houghton Mary Godwin Medwin Mesolonghi mind months Moore nature never Newstead night passage passed passion Percy Bysshe Shelley Pisa poem poet poet's poetic poetry prose Queen Mab Ravenna Reynolds rhyme romance says seems Severn Shelley Shelley's sister sonnet soul spirit stanzas story tells thee things thou thought tion Trelawny verse vision wife words Wordsworth writes written wrote young
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Сторінка 132 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night. Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again.
Сторінка 156 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy ? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven : We know her woof, her texture ; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Сторінка 133 - He is made one with nature; there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder to the song of night's sweet bird: He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own; Which wields the world with never-wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Сторінка 105 - The mind which is immortal makes itself Requital for its good or evil thoughts, Is its own origin of ill and end, And its own place and time...
Сторінка 137 - ... breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me ; my spirit's bark is driven Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given. The massy earth and sphered skies are riven ! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar ! Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Сторінка 105 - Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains, They crowned him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.
Сторінка 139 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Сторінка 130 - They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore ; Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom.
Сторінка 101 - Could this influence be durable in its original purity and force, it is impossible to predict the greatness of the results ; but when composition begins, inspiration is already on the decline, and the most glorious poetry that has ever been communicated to the world is probably a feeble shadow of the original conceptions of the poet.
Сторінка 111 - Shrouds thee wheresoe'er thou shinest. Fair are others; none beholds thee, But thy voice sounds low and tender Like the fairest, for it folds thee From the sight, that liquid splendour, And all feel, yet see thee never, As I feel now, lost for ever ! Lamp of Earth ! where'er thou movest Its dim shapes are clad with brightness, And the souls of whom thou lovest Walk upon the winds with lightness, Till they fail, as I am failing, Dizzy, lost, yet unbewailing...