Shelburne Essays, Volumen4G. P. Putnam's sons, 1906 - 283 páginas |
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Página 2
... called quite a great writer , but I do not hesitate to say that the works and biography to- gether bring us acquainted with one of the most original and most interesting personalities of the past century . He is likely to be remembered ...
... called quite a great writer , but I do not hesitate to say that the works and biography to- gether bring us acquainted with one of the most original and most interesting personalities of the past century . He is likely to be remembered ...
Página 5
... made the birthplace of Arthur , and hallowed and saddened with the loves of Tristram and Iseult and King Mark . It may almost be called the Bethlehem of Ro- mance . One approaches it to - day through a THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 5.
... made the birthplace of Arthur , and hallowed and saddened with the loves of Tristram and Iseult and King Mark . It may almost be called the Bethlehem of Ro- mance . One approaches it to - day through a THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW 5.
Página 26
... called the Prince of the Powers of the Air . But it was something more than superstition that supported the Vicar in his long years of trib- ulation . Above all these wandering fires glowed the steady light of faith , and he is one of ...
... called the Prince of the Powers of the Air . But it was something more than superstition that supported the Vicar in his long years of trib- ulation . Above all these wandering fires glowed the steady light of faith , and he is one of ...
Página 45
... of quality ! " Having diverted himself and us in this manner , till he had read every column methodically through , he began all over again , and presently called out , " Ha ! ha ! here's a pretty thing ! " and then , in a FANNY BURNEY 45.
... of quality ! " Having diverted himself and us in this manner , till he had read every column methodically through , he began all over again , and presently called out , " Ha ! ha ! here's a pretty thing ! " and then , in a FANNY BURNEY 45.
Página 46
... called out , " No ! I see nothing of the analeptic pills to - day ; but here's some Samaritan drops ! " Naturally , with her growing fame and her intimacy at Streatham , other friends of the great world were added to Miss Burney's ...
... called out , " No ! I see nothing of the analeptic pills to - day ; but here's some Samaritan drops ! " Naturally , with her growing fame and her intimacy at Streatham , other friends of the great world were added to Miss Burney's ...
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beauty Ben Jonson Blake Blake's Burney called century character Charles Lamb Church Crisp criticism death Diary divine Donne dread E. V. LUCAS Elizabethan English essay eyes Fall of Hyperion fancy Fanny fear feel Felpham Franklin G. P. Putnam's Sons genius George hand Hawker heart heaven Herbert Horace Horace Walpole human imagination Keats kind King Lamb Lamb's Leaves of Grass Leigh Hunt letters literary literature lived London look Lord Macaulay Matthew Arnold memory Milton mind Morwenstow nature never Nicholas Ferrar night once Paradise passed passion philosophy poems poet poet's poetic poetry reader religion scene seems sense solemn song sonnet soul Specimen Days spirit stanzas story sweet Tennyson thee theme things thou thought tion to-day truth turned verse vision volumes Walpole Walpole's Whitman wind wonder words Wordsworth writing written wrote
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Página 247 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistening with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Página 97 - Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Página 120 - Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art — Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Página 200 - Fear death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go...
Página 117 - Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Página 200 - And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. 242 For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Página 139 - I have said he, often and often in the course of the Session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: But now at length I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting Sun.
Página 211 - Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later delicate death. Prais'd be the fathomless universe, For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious, And for love, sweet love — but praise! praise! praise! For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
Página 213 - In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
Página 227 - To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly Shall end where they began. Alike the busy and the gay But flutter thro...