The Continuity of LettersClarendon Press, 1923 - 273 стор. |
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Результати 6-10 із 46
Сторінка 28
... not have believed in the actual existence of any such divinity as Echo ; Keats certainly did not believe in the goddess Maia ; but each is in his poem for the moment lifted 6 up out of himself , is become no longer 28 THE GRAND STYLE.
... not have believed in the actual existence of any such divinity as Echo ; Keats certainly did not believe in the goddess Maia ; but each is in his poem for the moment lifted 6 up out of himself , is become no longer 28 THE GRAND STYLE.
Сторінка 33
... certainly thinking , like Browning and Tennyson , of his own life and its approaching close : Nothing is here for tears , nothing to wail Or knock the breast ; no weakness , no contempt , Dispraise , or blame ; nothing but well and fair ...
... certainly thinking , like Browning and Tennyson , of his own life and its approaching close : Nothing is here for tears , nothing to wail Or knock the breast ; no weakness , no contempt , Dispraise , or blame ; nothing but well and fair ...
Сторінка 41
... certainly not there , as I venture to think , is any general or pervading unity of the Grand Style . One might extend such illustrations indefinitely without going outside our own poets . Do we find the Grand Style in Chaucer ? Seldom ...
... certainly not there , as I venture to think , is any general or pervading unity of the Grand Style . One might extend such illustrations indefinitely without going outside our own poets . Do we find the Grand Style in Chaucer ? Seldom ...
Сторінка 43
... certainly , would have understood what is meant by it so well as Gray . There is nothing of it in Pope ; and , when we get a little later on , there is nothing of it , I think , in Goldsmith , nothing in Crabbe , nothing in Cowper ...
... certainly , would have understood what is meant by it so well as Gray . There is nothing of it in Pope ; and , when we get a little later on , there is nothing of it , I think , in Goldsmith , nothing in Crabbe , nothing in Cowper ...
Сторінка 44
... certainly not one of our great poets as he assuredly is one of our very greatest masters of prose , touched these heights of style , it seems to me , not only in a thousand places of his prose , not only in that most perfect of all ...
... certainly not one of our great poets as he assuredly is one of our very greatest masters of prose , touched these heights of style , it seems to me , not only in a thousand places of his prose , not only in that most perfect of all ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
adventures Aeschylus Annette artist Barry Lyndon beauty better century certainly Cervantes character Chaucer commonplace course death delight Demogorgon divine Don Quixote doubt drama dramatist earth England English English poetry eternal fact Faery Queen faith Falstaff feeling France genius give Goethe Grand Style greater greatest Greek Harper heart Henry Hephaestus hero honour human humour Iliad imagination intellectual interest Jane Austen Jupiter king knew language literature live Lord lyric Milton mind Molière Napoleon nature never noble novel once perhaps Pindar play poem poet poet's poetic poetry political Prince Prometheus prose readers Richard Richard II scarcely scene Scott seems sense Shakespeare Shelley Shelley's simplicity Sonnets sort soul speak speech Spenser spirit stanza story tell Thackeray Thackeray's thee thing thou thought to-day true truth universal utterance Vanity Fair victory whole words Wordsworth writing Zeus
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Сторінка 177 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty...
Сторінка 40 - Twilight gray had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for Beast and Bird, they to their grassy couch, these to their nests, were slunk, — all but the wakeful nightingale; she, all night long, her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased. Now...
Сторінка 26 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
Сторінка 29 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong (Between whose endless jar justice resides), Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Сторінка 32 - This feather stirs; she lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt.
Сторінка 177 - There came a tyrant, and with holy glee Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left ; For, high-souled maid, what sorrow would it be That mountain floods should thunder as before, And ocean bellow from his rocky shore, And neither awful voice be heard by thee...
Сторінка 246 - Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Сторінка 74 - A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble: carriage ; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to threescore, and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me ; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may...
Сторінка 27 - All is best, though we oft doubt, What the unsearchable dispose Of highest wisdom brings about, And ever best found in the close.
Сторінка 262 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre...