Pictures of the Living Authors of BritainPartridge & Oakey, 1851 - 206 oldal |
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Pictures of the Living Authors of Britain (Classic Reprint) Thomas Powell Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2015 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
admirable Alfred Tennyson beauty Browning called Carlyle Caudle celebrated character Charles Dickens CHARLES MACKAY Clovernook cold critic DAMI dead death delight Dickens Douglas Jerrold drama dramatist dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING English eyes face faculty feel genius give grace hand head hear heart heaven hermit hero honour Horne Jerrold JOHN WESTLAND MARSTON labour lady laugh Leigh Hunt light listen living look Lord Macready manner mind Miss Barrett morning never night o'er Oliver Twist Paracelsus pass passion peculiar Philip Van Arteveldt play poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prichard RACH reader RICHARD HENRY HORNE Robert Browning Sartor Resartus scene seemed sense Shakspere Shakspere's singular sketch smile Sordello soul spirit style sweet Taylor tell Tennyson thee there's thing thou thought tion true truth verse voice volume wife woman words write
Népszerű szakaszok
31. oldal - THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
82. oldal - TIRED Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes ; Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
31. oldal - Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness ? All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown: Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm; Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings,
66. oldal - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon!
21. oldal - This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse. 'Think you this mould of hopes and fears Could find no statelier than his peers In yonder hundred million spheres?' It spake, moreover, in my mind: 'Tho' thou wert scatter'd to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
24. oldal - Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death. " 'Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life, not death, for which we pant ; More life, and fuller, that I want.
31. oldal - We will return no more;" And all at once they sang, "Our island home Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.
30. oldal - That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. Drug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof, In the dead unhappy night, and when the rain is on the roof.
31. oldal - And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores...
20. oldal - To-day I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. "An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk : from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. "He dried his wings: like gauze they grew: Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.