Literary Leaves, 1. ciltThacker & Company, 1840 |
Kitabın içinden
79 sonuçtan 1-5 arası sonuçlar
Sayfa 6
... poets has found that the wasps of criticism can destroy his repose , and that the neglect or ridicule even of the vulgar crowd is not always to be borne with a magnanimous indifference . Literary pursuits and literary distinctions are ...
... poets has found that the wasps of criticism can destroy his repose , and that the neglect or ridicule even of the vulgar crowd is not always to be borne with a magnanimous indifference . Literary pursuits and literary distinctions are ...
Sayfa 10
... poets , who on earth have made us heirs , Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs , Then gladly would I end my mortal days ! ” It is a mournful reflection that the poet's laurel is 10 ON ...
... poets , who on earth have made us heirs , Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs , Then gladly would I end my mortal days ! ” It is a mournful reflection that the poet's laurel is 10 ON ...
Sayfa 11
... poetic fame , that a personal intercourse with the bard himself is usually attended with surprise and disappointment . We forget the vast difference between mind and matter - the jewel and the casket . The mortal frame seems to dwarf ...
... poetic fame , that a personal intercourse with the bard himself is usually attended with surprise and disappointment . We forget the vast difference between mind and matter - the jewel and the casket . The mortal frame seems to dwarf ...
Sayfa 42
... poem from the Greek or Latin , with the same ease and rapidity , with which a maturer genius would write a familiar private letter . Some of these translations are preserved in the account of his life , but they form no portion of the ...
... poem from the Greek or Latin , with the same ease and rapidity , with which a maturer genius would write a familiar private letter . Some of these translations are preserved in the account of his life , but they form no portion of the ...
Sayfa 46
... poem of ten stanzas . " So that , " adds Fenton , " however he is generally reputed the parent of those swarms of insect wits , who affect to be thought easy writers , it is evident that he bestowed much time and care on his poems ...
... poem of ten stanzas . " So that , " adds Fenton , " however he is generally reputed the parent of those swarms of insect wits , who affect to be thought easy writers , it is evident that he bestowed much time and care on his poems ...
Diğer baskılar - Tümünü görüntüle
Sık kullanılan terimler ve kelime öbekleri
admiration amongst Anna Seward Atossa beauty Bolingbroke breast breath bright calm Chalkhill character Charlotte Smith charm cheerful Clearchus clouds conversation critics D'Israeli dear death delightful dreams Dryden Duchess of Marlborough E'en effect egotism egotist Essay Essay on Criticism external face fair fame fancy feeling friendship genius gleam glorious glory happy harmony hath heart hope Horace Walpole human intellectual John Chalkhill Johnson labour Leigh Hunt less light lines literary look Lord Bolingbroke Lord Byron Marchmont memory Milton mind Montaigne nature never o'er observed once passage passion perhaps persons Petrarch physiognomy pleasure poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's praise prose reader remarks says scene seems Shakspeare silent smile sonnet soul sound speak spirit stanza style sweet talk taste tender thine thing thou thought tion truth verse voice Warton weary words writers
Popüler pasajlar
Sayfa 280 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Sayfa 129 - Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
Sayfa 332 - Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that...
Sayfa 99 - With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
Sayfa 91 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar...
Sayfa 97 - Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
Sayfa 202 - CYRIACK, this three years' day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman.
Sayfa 203 - I trust hereby to make it manifest with what small willingness I endure to interrupt the pursuit of no less hopes than these, and leave a calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with cheerful and confident thoughts, to embark in a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes, put from beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies...
Sayfa 93 - 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, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Sayfa 97 - Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain ! Break his bands of sleep asunder And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark ! the horrid sound Has raised up his head : As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares around. Revenge, revenge...