Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places, and PeopleHarper, 1872 - 558 sider |
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Side 5
... head sette Hunge lowe down to her knee ; And every rynge on her smalle finger Shone of the chrystall free . Sayes , " Christ you save , my deare madáme ; " Sayes , " Christ you save and see ! " Sayes , " You be welcome , Kyng Estmere ...
... head sette Hunge lowe down to her knee ; And every rynge on her smalle finger Shone of the chrystall free . Sayes , " Christ you save , my deare madáme ; " Sayes , " Christ you save and see ! " Sayes , " You be welcome , Kyng Estmere ...
Side 13
... head , not of the heart . This poem , at least , may vie with those of Gerald Griffin in the high and rare merit of conveying the noblest sentiments in the simplest language . Away ! let naught to love displeasing , My Winifreda , move ...
... head , not of the heart . This poem , at least , may vie with those of Gerald Griffin in the high and rare merit of conveying the noblest sentiments in the simplest language . Away ! let naught to love displeasing , My Winifreda , move ...
Side 19
... head . Steady they step adown the slope , steady they mount the hill , Steady they load , steady they fire , moving right onward still , Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy , as through a furnace blast , Through rampart , trench and palisade ...
... head . Steady they step adown the slope , steady they mount the hill , Steady they load , steady they fire , moving right onward still , Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy , as through a furnace blast , Through rampart , trench and palisade ...
Side 26
... head Windsor - ward . Then we reviewed the haunts of Gray , the house at Stoke Pogis , and the church - yard where he is buried , and which con- tains the touching epitaph wherein the pious son commemorates " the careful mother of many ...
... head Windsor - ward . Then we reviewed the haunts of Gray , the house at Stoke Pogis , and the church - yard where he is buried , and which con- tains the touching epitaph wherein the pious son commemorates " the careful mother of many ...
Side 36
... head of the school of poets called metaphysical , he is now chiefly known by those prose essays , all too short and all too few , which , whether for thought or for expression , have rarely been excelled by any writer in any language ...
... head of the school of poets called metaphysical , he is now chiefly known by those prose essays , all too short and all too few , which , whether for thought or for expression , have rarely been excelled by any writer in any language ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
admirable ballads beauty Ben Jonson bird Bonny Dundee Bradshaigh bright brother called charming dear death delight doth EACUS English EURIPIDES eyes fair father fear feeling flowers Gelert gentlemen Gerald Griffin give Goodere grace hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Hepzibah honor horse Joanna Baillie John Banim John Clare kind King Klopstock knew Kyng lady laughed letters light live look Lord Mahony maid mignonette Molière morning murder never night noble o'er once Pan is dead passed person pleasure poems poet poetry poor praise round SACK OF BALTIMORE scene seemed sing smile song spirit story sweet tears tell thee There's thing Thomas Holcroft thou thought took trees truth Twas Ufton Court verse walk wild wirra-sthru wonder words write wyfe XANTHIAS young youth
Populære passager
Side 545 - STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in discourse ; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one ; but the general counsels, and the plots, and marshalling of affairs come best from those that are learned.
Side 438 - Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies, When faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And innocence is closing up his eyes, — Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover ! THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT.
Side 546 - I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.
Side 138 - The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind : but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received ; or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron which Providence has enabled me to do for myself.
Side 315 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Side 316 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Side 394 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Side 394 - Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God ! God!
Side 182 - Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is, friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground ; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.
Side 430 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river. With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement. She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver ; But not the dark arch. Or the black flowing river : Mad from Life's history, Glad to Death's mystery, Swift to be hurled— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly.