Art, Literature, and the DramaBrown, Taggard & Chase, 1860 - 449 páginas |
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Página 35
... head erect , secure that it must point at last to those truths which are central to us , wherever we stand ; and if my road , leading through the busy crowd of men , amid the clang and bustle of conflicting in- terests and passions ...
... head erect , secure that it must point at last to those truths which are central to us , wherever we stand ; and if my road , leading through the busy crowd of men , amid the clang and bustle of conflicting in- terests and passions ...
Página 39
... head bowed down , leaned on his arm , looks up after a few moments ' silence ) -Pardon , my lord , if I have not fit words to answer you . The flood of your thought has swept over me like music , and like that , for the time , at least ...
... head bowed down , leaned on his arm , looks up after a few moments ' silence ) -Pardon , my lord , if I have not fit words to answer you . The flood of your thought has swept over me like music , and like that , for the time , at least ...
Página 71
... head , Those bursts of reason's half - extinguished glare , Those tears upon Cordelia's bosom shed In doubt more touching than despair , If ' twas reality he felt ? " or , " Fair as some classic dome , Robust and richly graced , Your ...
... head , Those bursts of reason's half - extinguished glare , Those tears upon Cordelia's bosom shed In doubt more touching than despair , If ' twas reality he felt ? " or , " Fair as some classic dome , Robust and richly graced , Your ...
Página 75
... head in the clouds , yet must be studied through and through , for months and years , to be appreciated in all its grandeur . Nothing surprises me more in Scott's poetry , than that a per- son of so strong imagination should see every ...
... head in the clouds , yet must be studied through and through , for months and years , to be appreciated in all its grandeur . Nothing surprises me more in Scott's poetry , than that a per- son of so strong imagination should see every ...
Página 84
... head was bound with pansies overblown , And faded violets , white , and pied , and blue ; And a light spear , topped with a cypress cone , Round whose rude shaft dark ivy - tresses grew Yet dripping with the forest's noon - day dew ...
... head was bound with pansies overblown , And faded violets , white , and pied , and blue ; And a light spear , topped with a cypress cone , Round whose rude shaft dark ivy - tresses grew Yet dripping with the forest's noon - day dew ...
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Términos y frases comunes
admirable Alph Anto Antonio artist beauty Beethoven better breast brother calm character charm clavichord critic Dædalus deep delight divine drama earth expression eyes fair faith fancy feel felt flowers fugue genius gentle gifts give Goethe grace Handel happy harmony harpsichord hast Haydn hear heart heaven honour hope hour human immortal band John Sebastian Leon Leonora less light live look Lord Madame de Staël melody mind misanthropy Mozart muse nature never noble o'er Paracelsus passion perfect Philip Van Artevelde picture play pleasure poems poet poetic poetry praise present prince princess receive SCENE seek seems Senesino Sir James Mackintosh song soul speak spirit Strafford sweet sympathy Tasso taste tender thee thine things thou art thought tion tone touch true truth verse wish words Wordsworth worthy write youth
Pasajes populares
Página 70 - 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...
Página 192 - In speech — (which I have not) — to make your will Quite clear to such an one, and say " Just this Or that in you disgusts me ; here you miss, Or there exceed the mark...
Página 70 - Joyous as morning Thou art laughing and scorning ; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark ! thou would'st be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain river Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver...
Página 85 - A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear O Lady!
Página 86 - And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars ; Those stars, that glide behind them or between, Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen : Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue...
Página 73 - The wind, the tempest roaring high, The tumult of a Tropic sky, Might well be dangerous food For him, a Youth to whom was given So much of earth, so much of Heaven, And such impetuous blood.
Página 70 - 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.
Página 86 - To lift the smothering weight from off my breast? It were a vain endeavour, Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Página 71 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear: If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, • Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
Página 72 - A love in desolation masked — a power Girt round with weakness ; it can scarce uplift The weight of the superincumbent hour. It is a dying lamp, a falling shower, A breaking billow ; — even whilst we speak Is it not broken ? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly : on a cheek The life can burn in blood even while the heart may break.