Literary Leaves, Svazek 1Thacker & Company, 1840 |
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Strana 10
... poet , who inflames his eager soul with the hope of a never - dying name , and the exalting thought , that he may stir the vast sea of human hearts , when the crowd of his contemporaries shall be ... poet's laurel is 10 ON LITERARY FAME.
... poet , who inflames his eager soul with the hope of a never - dying name , and the exalting thought , that he may stir the vast sea of human hearts , when the crowd of his contemporaries shall be ... poet's laurel is 10 ON LITERARY FAME.
Strana 11
David Lester Richardson. It is a mournful reflection that the poet's laurel is often steeped in tears , and that it acquires its richest bloom upon his grave . And yet if a great poet could anticipate his future fame , and enjoy its full ...
David Lester Richardson. It is a mournful reflection that the poet's laurel is often steeped in tears , and that it acquires its richest bloom upon his grave . And yet if a great poet could anticipate his future fame , and enjoy its full ...
Strana 39
... poet's dream , or sage's thought , To thee , these mouldering walls a voice shall raise , And sadly tell how earthly pride decays ; How human hopes , like human works , depart , And leave behind the ruins of the heart ! SONNET . EVENING ...
... poet's dream , or sage's thought , To thee , these mouldering walls a voice shall raise , And sadly tell how earthly pride decays ; How human hopes , like human works , depart , And leave behind the ruins of the heart ! SONNET . EVENING ...
Strana 49
... poet's fastidious changes of phrase , and his laborious correc- tion of defects . Medwin , in his Life of Shelley , published in the Athenæum , tells us that that poet exercised the severest self - criti- cism on every thing he wrote ...
... poet's fastidious changes of phrase , and his laborious correc- tion of defects . Medwin , in his Life of Shelley , published in the Athenæum , tells us that that poet exercised the severest self - criti- cism on every thing he wrote ...
Strana 51
... poet's manuscripts that had numerous corrections and additions on the alternate white page . When a man feels that he is writing for posterity , and that the propriety of almost every separate thought and expression will be canvassed ...
... poet's manuscripts that had numerous corrections and additions on the alternate white page . When a man feels that he is writing for posterity , and that the propriety of almost every separate thought and expression will be canvassed ...
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Literary Leaves: Prose and Verse Chiefly Written in India, Volume II ... David Lester Richardson Náhled není k dispozici. - 2015 |
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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
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Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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...
Strana 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.
Strana 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...
Strana 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!
Strana 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.
Strana 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...
Strana 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.
Strana 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...